


No Cigarette Bites

by lovetelit



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Romance, chanyeol stop being angsty please, mentions of a few character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-15 01:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11795292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetelit/pseuds/lovetelit
Summary: Chanyeol had lost so much in the post-apocalypse- his friends, his career, himself. When Do Kyungsoo came along, he expected nothing, but instead Kyungsoo gave him everything.





	No Cigarette Bites

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the mods and J for reading over this fic for me! This was such a whirlwind to write and I hope the readers enjoy it as much as I did writing it. 
> 
> some songs mentioned in this:
> 
> •Graveyard Whistling- Nothing But Thieves  
> •I Want You Back- Yuna  
> •Hug Me- Nam Taehyun-South Club
> 
> In fact, the title is a play on the lyrics from Hug Me—

The ground felt like tar. Chanyeol woke up with a new cut on his cheek. He had strayed away from the blanket he used as a mattress, the once brightly coloured fabric now worn and greying. It was still early, the skies still tinged in darkness. He put on his black-rimmed glasses, peeking out the barred window of his small apartment to see the time that was hologrammed between the clouds. 12th April, 12:11. Chanyeol sighed.

It's been five years since the apocalypse hit. Confusion was still etched in everyone’s mind. It had been slow to rebuild land, but they eventually got that to work, even if the homes they live in now didn't have any beds or the normal comfort. Chanyeol shuffled to the kitchen. The fridge was pathetic but it could still keep food cool most times. He was delighted to find the cake he had bought from old Mrs Song still keeping shape. Still looking good. 

Chanyeol lit the candles, smiling at the smatter of rosellas decorated along the perimeter of vanilla buttercream. He had wanted strawberries but they didn't have any supply. He clasped his hands together, shutting his eyes tight. A wish was thrown to the air, against his own caution. He willed the memories to not flood, willed his soul to not yearn.

If he thought about it hard enough though, he could hear the teasing tone about him being late for the birthday again. He kicked the imaginary voice away, blowing out the candles and cutting himself a slice.

The cake was supposed to taste sweet, with just a splash of tartness from the rosellas. Yet all they tasted of was salt, sobs wracking Chanyeol’s entire body. He gripped his hand, nails denting his palm enough to bleed. His tongue tasted of iron. Chanyeol hadn’t even realised he had bit his lip. 

Taking a deep breath, he wiped the tears away, blotting away the blood with the ends of his sleeves. The fork was picked up again- the only fork he had in his possession- and took another bite. Again. Slowly. Again. It was okay. One more. Mrs Song really does make good cake. And another. The rosellas didn't taste half bad either. The last bite. 

Chanyeol savoured the last piece, sighing wistfully. His plate was empty except for the smidgen of cream and some crumbs. If this was three years ago, he would have been reprimanded for not licking his plate clean. 

_It's good cake Chanyeol, eat the damn crumbs._ God, he could still hear the voice till this day.

He wished he couldn't. 

Washing the plate, Chanyeol shook his mind free from those thoughts, checking the clock in the sky again. Exactly one a.m. He laid down on the thin blanket, his arm acting as a pillow. His notebook was out, and what had started as doodling turned to him frantically writing about the damn sky. It was simply dark, but in Chanyeol’s mind, it could be navy with the texture of velvet. It never mattered anyway. No one could see it.

Chanyeol still took special care to describe his surroundings in great detail. The loud clock in the sky’s ticking, the quiet apartment block, the rough material of his blanket, Mrs Song’s cake. He stopped slightly at the mention of the cake, chuckling through tear-brimmed eyes. 

_I was eleven minutes late again, I'm sorry, but Happy Birthday Sehun._

 

 

 

The walk to work was uneventful. Chanyeol’s feet thumped on the ground, shoulders drooped down by sadness. He would take an off day, but that was still a foreign concept in this time and day. The stairs were crooked, and the wood squealed underneath his prints. Chanyeol took care going down but did he really care if he fell into his demise right now? 

Mrs Song greeted him when he reached the lobby. It was a shabby place, dust at the corners even with their best attempts at keeping it clean. The ceiling was too low, and Chanyeol ducked under the fan, grinning at Mrs Song. Never sincere, but always wide still. It was one of the traits people knew him by before the apocalypse. A happy virus- bright eyes, infectious laughter, and addictive smiles. Chanyeol carried it till this day, but only for one person. He liked the image of a happy Mrs Song. 

He had not been the most approachable after the apocalypse. Then again, no one was. He had woken up to chaos, his skin blistered. Something was peeling on his elbow and blood was everywhere. He could barely see his own skin against all the red. 

Days began being monotonous after he was released from the meager hospital, who patched up what they could. He had met Mrs Song when he was trying to bandage up his elbow again. The old cotton had been soaked through with red- it wasn’t a pretty sight. The elderly woman didn’t seem to mind. She still smiled warmly at him, even through his cold glare, offering to help him renew his bandage. She was way too different than anyone else he had ever seen. Whilst others had been pale, sickly, willing death, she took the end to make it a beginning.

Chanyeol never thought he would ever smile again, yet when Mrs Song offered him a bit of her food ratio, he couldn't refuse. His lips had quirked slightly, edges lifting before he could even help it.

“It was a good cake Mrs Song.” He told her now, loving the way her eyes lit up and how her smile took almost half of her face. Mrs Song had acquired some makeup in the last five years. How she did- Chanyeol never knew. It was an amazing feat especially for their times. The woman was truly a wondrous being; she always had her ways.

“Your words are always sweeter Chanyeol,” The woman chided, her smile lined with wrinkles by the lips and nose. “You're too nice.”

“I know,” Chanyeol replied playfully, feet already out the front door. Mrs Song scoffed, but said nothing else as Chanyeol met the city. 

The city had changed in a lot of ways. Their walkways were bigger now, the roads smaller as no one ever rides a vehicle anymore. Buildings were under construction at every turn, and no one gave mind to the people who had megaphones in their hands, yelling about God and the punishments of Hell. There was a lot of din in the morning, every one was out trying to get to work, buses shuttled past, although very rare in its appearance, and above all the constant loud ticking from the cloud in the sky. It was what everyone called the clock that the government just decided to screen in the sky, instead of mass producing watches for the citizens. It took up a huge part of the sky, green numbers beeping against a blue canvas. Chanyeol’s mood dropped even further, and he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. He hated the sound of the clock.

Chanyeol walked past others- some human, some not. A man was distributing newspaper to the passersby, but Chanyeol never paid them any mind. He paid little attention to news these days. He tried to, but found himself spacing out every time, tuning out everything. The world was in shambles anyway, what news could ever pass that? Hell, they had a huge fucking clock in the sky.

The construction site loomed after fifteen minutes. It was actually pretty close to his apartment complex, the site only down the corner from his apartment. 

He had joined the place in a compassionate impulse. Figured he'd better help rebuild the country in one way or another. Some of the crew were already in the locker room. Baekhyun, Jongdae and Minseok to name a few. They greeted him lazily and Chanyeol nodded, not offering more than that, and they had come to stop expecting more. 

Chanyeol took off his shoes, slipping into the work ones, staring down at the cement floor intently. He willed time to quicken, wishing the day would already end even if it had only started. That was another huge difference between his old self and the him now. He used to embrace the hours, but now, he found little to look forward to. 

If he wasn’t intently busying himself with tuning out from his surroundings, he would have heard the distant introductions happening, and maybe he would have been less surprised when Minseok brought a smaller guy to him, patting Chanyeol’s shoulder brightly. “Here's Chanyeol, our resident brooder.”

Chanyeol winced at the intruding hands, looking at the smaller guy instead. Must be new. He had that nervous edge to him, eyebrows joining and lips hesitantly upturned. If Chanyeol had an ounce of pity in him, maybe he would have smiled encouragingly, but all he did was look away. 

“My name’s Kyungsoo.” The new guy still offered his hand, and Chanyeol’s eyes widened slightly at the glint of bronze. He looked at Minseok, “We accept cyborgs now?”

Minseok shrugged. “Well, he's here so probably.”

Chanyeol frowned. The new guy- Kyungsoo- tilted his head. “Is that a problem for you?”

“Everything's a problem for Chanyeol.” Minseok said, earning himself a few chuckles from the crew but nothing from Kyungsoo. Chanyeol glared up at Kyungsoo, meeting defiant eyes. Cyborgs weren't exactly taboo, but they had slowly taken handful of jobs that could have been for humans just because they were faster, stronger, slower to get tired. Worst of all, they had given Chanyeol a small tinge of hope, then proceeded to crush it all, every last fiber of what made Chanyeol, _Chanyeol_.

He stood, brushing past the cyborg roughly. His shoulder met metal, and it hurt like a bitch, but he would never give a cyborg that satisfaction. “Yes, it _is_ a fucking problem Kyungsoo.” 

Not caring to elaborate, Chanyeol decided to start work early.

 

 

 

The sun was even hotter after the apocalypse. Chanyeol didn't think it was possible, but here they were now anyway. He wrapped his head with a stray cloth, putting on the goggles for work before walking to the foundation. It was well into afternoon now, he had just ended break, and the team was more eager than ever to get at least the cement work done. Chanyeol had heard somewhere that this place was going to be a school. Where dreams are learnt and hope comes alive.

Hope was a funny concept. Chanyeol didn't know it anymore. He had taken too many turns from it to ever redeem it again. Five years had taught him that naivety barely survived and it was better to carry one’s self first, then think of others. A hand grasped his shoulder when he picked up the power tools to help dig up the soil at a stubborn piece of land. Chanyeol turned, meeting the glare of Kyungsoo. He stiffened, but did nothing to pull himself away from the metal hand or shift his eyes away from the angry eyes. “What do you want?”

Kyungsoo only stared back, not saying a word. Chanyeol squirmed, but still remained in his position. Kyungsoo had a hard grip on his shoulder, and Chanyeol knew how strong bionic arms were. One wrong move and arm could break. Kyungsoo exhaled, glare softening out of the blue before a hesitant smile formed. “Nothing much Chanyeol, just hoped we'd be able to work together well from now on.” 

Chanyeol blinked, taken aback as Kyungsoo scurried off without waiting for a response. The words ‘me too’ was stuck in his throat, to which he was glad for. He begrudgingly continued working, avoiding eye contact with everyone else for the rest of the day.

 

 

Sehun loved sunsets. He used to adore walking outside, dragging Chanyeol by the wrist. They would sit on the hill nearby their apartment, watching the blue sky turn pink, then orange and yellow, shades ombreing and mixing. Then, night would fall in navy, stars glimmering in its wake like diamonds on midnight blue dresses. 

Chanyeol would just watch the sky, sometimes glancing at Sehun, who always seemed to have something he needed to capture on his camera. The few moments of serenity was enough to freshen Chanyeol’s mind, and he'd go back to their shared apartment, his fingers buzzing as he typed frantically on his computer. Whatever scene it was, those escapades always made him feel more inspired.

Chanyeol couldn't put his finger on why, and Sehun had shrugged when it became Chanyeol who dragged him by the wrist to the hill. Time slowed down in those seconds. Sehun’s heartwarming laugh and infectious happiness- they accompanied Chanyeol’s trek to the hill, making him happy. 

The post-apocalypse sunset only made him sad. Longing was horrible, want was a plague, and yearning was a disease. Chanyeol took the notebook he always kept near, writing about the sunset, about his sadness, about Sehun, about work, about Kyungsoo. 

A knock on the door stopped him from releasing his every emotion. Mrs Song was at the door, her hands holding a covered ceramic bowl. “Dinner?”

Chanyeol glanced at the window, to the clock outside. It was nearing eight p.m., he had totally forgotten about dinner in the midst of pouring out his heart on paper. Mrs Song only smiled knowingly, walking in as soon as Chanyeol stepped aside. The food and company helped lift a smile, but Chanyeol’s mind couldn’t help remembering the past. Remembering Sehun.

“How was work?”

“Fine,” Chanyeol murmured. He was picking on his food, and Mrs Song slapped him lightly on the wrist when she noticed. “There's a new guy. Kyungsoo. A cyborg.”

Mrs Song hummed, wanting to ask further about Kyungsoo, but Chanyeol pleaded at her to change the subject, so she did, talking about her day instead. There was an understanding sheen in her eyes, and Chanyeol knew she was thinking of her dead son too. It was almost pathetic- how they both yearned and longed for the dead. 

“Don't take it out on him Chanyeol.” Mrs Song suddenly said just as she was leaving. They were right at the door. Chanyeol remained quiet. “It's not his fault. He went through as much as you did probably.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol settled with saying, waving Mrs Song goodbye. He knew it wasn't Kyungsoo’s fault- of course he knew that- but it didn't help that he was constantly reminded of the government’s rejection when he requested for Sehun to be used in the cyborgs project. Their excuse had been that there was too little of Sehun’s body to be used. Bones too crushed and flesh never intact. Chanyeol’s eyes burned just thinking of it.

It honestly wasn't Kyungsoo's fault nor was it the government’s, it was all his.

 

 

 

Chanyeol was used to monotone. His days were a routine with only a few stand-out events. Yet something- or rather- _someone_ was intent on breaking it. Kyungsoo waved happily every time they so much as met eyes, asking if Chanyeol wanted to join him for lunch and even trailing behind Chanyeol when they walked back home. He didn't know what Kyungsoo wanted from him if he was being honest. It was definitely harder being mean when Kyungsoo was being so...friendly. Chanyeol dreaded even looking at him.

He even learnt that Kyungsoo lived in the apartment complex next to his- not intentionally, of course. Kyungsoo had trailed behind him for days and when Chanyeol couldn't stand it anymore, he had demanded to know why Kyungsoo was following him every day for no apparent reason. Kyungsoo laughed, "Chanyeol don't flatter yourself too much."

He then walked to the complex beside Chanyeol’s and waved at him one last time. Chanyeol regretted saying anything at all, feeling the burn in his face all the way to his fingertips.

 

 

 

Mrs Song gave him a packed lunch some days, demanding he returned with an empty lunchbox. That day was such a day, the red lunchbox in Chanyeol’s hands as she waved him goodbye. Chanyeol walked to work with a slight bounce in his step, reaching work earlier than usual. 

No one else was in the locker room except for Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, and he hoped he didn't seem as awkward as he felt. Kyungsoo didn't try to initiate conversation with him, which Chanyeol was grateful for. The room was so silent, the creaking from a loose locker door echoing in the room as they shuffled around to get ready. Chanyeol felt like he needed to say something. Luckily, before he could say a thing, Minseok and Co.(Baekhyun and Jongdae) came in, immediately talking to Kyungsoo and completely ignoring Chanyeol.

It was just the way Chanyeol liked, but somehow seeing Kyungsoo blend in so well with the others made something lurch in Chanyeol's stomach. He didn't entertain the feeling, instead focusing on wrapping his head in the brown cloth and putting on the safety vest. The bubbles of loneliness popped above Chanyeol as he stared at Kyungsoo with the others. How did they manage to stay so happy?

"What about you, Chanyeol?" Kyungsoo's voice cut through his thoughts. Chanyeol focused again on Kyungsoo, on Baekhyun's incredulous face. He sputtered. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Jongdae smiled, repeating the question for Chanyeol. "What job did you have before the apocalypse?"

"Oh." Chanyeol looked away, silently staring at the metal doors of the lockers. He could hear Baekhyun scoff, saying something along the lines of 'I knew he wouldn't answer', and Jongdae quietly apologising if the question was too direct. Chanyeol wondered when he became so sensitive. "I was a writer." He said, clearing his throat, and looking at them. Kyungsoo, mainly.

"A writer?" Kyungsoo seemed to light up, straightening in his seat. 

"Man, I was totally convinced you were a depressed broke artist." Baekhyun said, yelping when Kyungsoo pinched him on the arm.

"Your alias?"

Chanyeol shook his head this time. "I'd rather not say. It's all over anyway."

They all nodded in understanding, Kyungsoo sighing. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

Writing wasn't even the biggest thing Chanyeol lost, so he shrugged. "Everything sucked. The world was ending, how could it not suck?"

"There's that depressed artist answer I was looking for." Baekhyun snickered, Jongdae and Minseok laughing as well but Kyungsoo only looked at him. It was with the same intensity as last time and Chanyeol squirmed in his seat, not knowing how to react.

"Yes?" Chanyeol asked. He just wanted Kyungsoo to look away. His eyes discomfited Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo shook his head, smiling slightly before preparing for work. Chanyeol took that as a cue to start lacing up his work boots.

 

 

The clock chimed in the skies, ringing again and again. The blare of it has Chanyeol wincing, steps bleary as they descended wooden stairs, mumbling morning greetings to Mrs Song. His head felt heavy and in the midst of being confused, he didn't even realise it was his off-day. Chanyeol stopped by the lobby. He had grabbed his notebook for some reason, and Chanyeol stared at it, then at the cloud.

"You can go around town for once." Mrs Song said behind him. He jumped slightly, but smiled quickly in recovery. Mrs Song urged him out, shooing him with her hands.

 

It was how Chanyeol found himself making his way through the Town Central. The fountain had no water at all spraying from it, only the light that would cast the clock into the sky. Cyborgs and humans milled about, some chatting, some eating, and some simply staring at the clock. There were a few people who kneeled by the fountain, hands clasped together in prayer. 

Chanyeol wrote it all in his worn leather book. He described the sole female who clutched onto her necklace, eyes brimming with tears as she rested her knees on the floor. He described the two cyborgs having an arm wrestling match while other people watched curiously. The one with a silver arm was the one who ended up winning, the crowd letting out a mix of cheering and groaning. He described the woman next to him, muttering the chimes of the clock beside him like a mantra. Her eyes were dazed, her hands shook. Chanyeol wondered what happened.

He told Sehun he would have so much to take a photograph of in this time, depending on whether his camera would even survive the apocalypse of course. _Fashion has changed too_ , Chanyeol added. Sehun had always been fascinated with fashion- outfits, accessories and the minute details- they never went past Sehun's eyes. Spikes on shoulders are a thing now, all those steampunk fashion- they came true.

The clock chimes became muffled as a troop of soldiers walked past him. Their thunderous march muted every other sound, only their every step heard. Chanyeol wondered if there was anything to be training for. A war? A revolution? What was it?

A figure sat beside Chanyeol then, clad in a plain tee and dirty overalls. Kyungsoo. "You really were a writer."

Chanyeol stared at the cyborg, before looking away. He looked different in plain clothes. "Of course I really was. why would I lie?"

"Maybe you wanted to appear cool amongst our other interesting careers."

"I didn't even pay attention to the conversation enough to know _your_ career." Chanyeol deadpanned. He wondered why he was even talking to Kyungsoo, but didn't try to stop himself either. 

Kyungsoo laughed, shaking his head. "I was a lawyer. Minseok and Jongdae were vets in the same clinic, can you believe? They are still friends after the apocalypse. And Baekhyun was a porn star."

Chanyeol blanched, glaring at Kyungsoo to see if he was joking. Kyungsoo nodded. "No one could top his career for sure."

There was silence after, a beat or two before Kyungsoo asked. "How was it like? Being a writer?" 

Chanyeol shrugged, looking down at the brown leather. The sides were dog eared and cracks ran down the cover. "It was a good dream to achieve."

Kyungsoo tilted his head. "A dream, huh?"

"Yeah," Chanyeol said. He was trying to not show too much but it failed. His voice cracked. "It was a really good dream. Even better when I managed to grasp it." 

Sehun had been all about that. Achieving dreams. Attaining what he wanted in life and embracing it. Sehun had been Chanyeol's driving force. They had both tried and got what they wanted. Together.

Kyungsoo understood Chanyeol's silence as sadness. Reminiscence. He didn't prod, and let Chanyeol simmer. "Must have been nice."

Chanyeol looked at him, watching Kyungsoo closely. There was something in his face. Something Chanyeol could not put a finger on. "It _was_."

 

 

 

Chanyeol couldn't even deny that he was beginning to let Kyungsoo be in his life, even if he was in the mere background. They didn't talk as much still- Chanyeol would cut the conversation short every time- but it was getting somewhere. He smiled back whenever Kyungsoo waved at him- didn't think he's ever done that to anyone else before.

On his next off-day, Chanyeol went to the town central again. He pretended like he came to describe the town again to Sehun- woman selling trinkets, a man wailing as he prayed to the fountain, and a small man who sat beside Chanyeol, asking him how he was doing. His hands stopped while writing, fingers pausing over paper. 

Chanyeol couldn't deny wanting Kyungsoo to be there. He didn't know why. He closed the leather-bound book, slipping the pencil over his ear, conscious of how Kyungsoo's eyes trailed his every move. His glasses slip slightly, "Didn't expect you to be here," _Yeah right_.

"I go here every off day we get Chanyeol." Kyungsoo smiled warmly, ever welcoming. Chanyeol wondered how one could be so hospitable in a conversation. "It's nice. The town central's always so busy."

"Yeah," Chanyeol chimed, looking around again. Now that Kyungsoo was actually here, he didn't know what he wanted to say in the first place. He didn't want to say anything maybe. All he wanted to do was listen. To Kyungsoo. "How's life?"

Kyungsoo looked at him, slightly mystified. He shifted his bionic arm, resting one on his lap. "It's okay," Silence, again. Chanyeol swallowed. Maybe Kyungsoo noticed how uncomfortable Chanyeol seemed because he continued. "Better than the old days."

"Old days?" Chanyeol asked, wanting Kyungsoo to talk more. Chanyeol was so confused with himself, but chose not to question it. Kyungsoo smiled though, understanding. _Hospitable_.

"Well..."

 

 

 

_Sehun had a warmth about him._

He listened to every single one of Chanyeol's gripes, urged the troubles out when Chanyeol wanted to stay mute about it. It was one of the reasons they were so close. As bright as Chanyeol had been, he liked to hold himself back. Liked to bottle up some feelings- most feelings.

The first time he and Sehun even talked was when they were both slightly intoxicated. Both of them were leaning against the railing at their friend's balcony, warm cans of beer in their hand. Neither one of them were even drinking it anymore. Chanyeol had been muddled in his mind over his parents. He remembered it so distinctly, how Sehun had listened to his complaints, not even suggesting a way to help but had simply been there.

That was the best thing about Sehun. He never said anything unless Chanyeol asked him for help. He lent a listening ear, a tight hug if needed. Sehun understood him so well. 

Chanyeol's breath drew patterns in the sky, cold clinging onto his fingers as he ran it down his face. Aggravated and slightly drunk. Never the best combination. "They don't understand that this is what I want to do. Writing _is_ what I want to do."

Sehun had looked at him intently, rubbing circles into Chanyeol's back. The small gesture had helped so much somehow. "The economy's fucked and the world is ending anyway. What does it matter what I do? There's always a chance of never making it no matter what I do." 

Sehun sighed, letting Chanyeol's head lean on his shoulder. The night air was so cold but Chanyeol liked how it felt, "Am I wrong for thinking that?"

"You're not." Sehun whispered. Slurred sobriety made tears well up in Chanyeol's eyes. He cried that night, in front of a mutual he barely even knew. Sehun had hugged him, not saying anything except mere hushes. The crescent moon hung high in the sky, and Chanyeol stared at it over Sehun’s shoulder. “The world is ending, huh?”

“That, it is.” 

And somehow, that had been the lock and key to their friendship, immediately being opened and locked again.

 

 

 

Work was the same. Kyungsoo approached him, but stopped once Chanyeol made it clear that he didn't want to talk. Not at work anyway.

He didn't know what his deal was. He was fine when it was just the two of them, but hated it in an environment with people surrounding them. Kyungsoo's expression fell, but Chanyeol did nothing to make it right again. He hated that he cared.

 _Sehun, what should I do?_ Sehun had always been Chanyeol's balance. Every day without him just made Chanyeol get even more tangled. He couldn't remember who he was anymore. Kyungsoo could be the new person who met him in the middle, his mind whispered, but Chanyeol ignored the thought. He couldn't afford having another friend. Baring it all, only to lose it later. It was a fucked up mindset, but Chanyeol couldn't convince himself that answering to Kyungsoo's invitations were the right thing to do. 

Sehun would be so disappointed in him.

 

 

He had dinner with Mrs Song again. Fried sardines and rice weren't the fanciest meal, but Chanyeol had survived on just vegetables for so long that fish was a luxury now. Their conversation was carried mostly by Mrs Song. How Mr Lee had trouble going down the stairs nowadays, how the mailman was flirting with her again in the morning, and how she went to pray at the temple at the far east of town. 

Chanyeol had always been respectful about people's beliefs. He may have taken a cynical view of religion, but he wasn't going to degrade people who didn't. So he didn't know what was going through his mind when he blurted out, "Why do you even make the effort?"

Mrs Song quirked her head, slowly smiling when understanding dawned. The temple was at least an hour by the bus, a whole lot of effort, and for what? Chanyeol seethed silently.

"For myself, Chanyeol." Mrs Song finally replied, chewing on her rice slowly. Thoughtfully. "God gives me hope and the drive to even go on. To stay alive and smile. You can call it false hope. I honestly won't deny it."

Chanyeol furrowed his brows, trying to understand. "You don't even believe in God and you pray?" 

"It's not that I don't believe, I'm just doubtful." Mrs Song looked older when she was sad. Chanyeol wished the wrinkles would disappear. He wanted to make her smile again. "Praying is the only thing that connects me to the life I had. It's my only connection to Minhyuk."

Chanyeol stayed silent. Mrs Song didn't say anything either. They finished their food at the same time, both trapped in their own thoughts, the table quiet as they ponder. Chanyeol looked at Mrs Song intently, swallowing nervously after his words. "I want to follow you the next time you go."

Mrs Song was surprised. Her widened eyes softened when she looked at Chanyeol. He knew she understood why. They were both hopeless.

"Okay Chanyeol," Mrs Song murmured, patting his cheek softly. "I'll bring you too next time."

 

 

 

Kyungsoo blended in well with the other crew members. They took him in well. His reserved extrovertedness made him even more likeable than Baekhyun. In a span of a few months, Kyungsoo took to the group better than Chanyeol ever had. Not like Chanyeol even tried. 

In a sense of confused relief, Chanyeol found that Kyungsoo didn't try to talk to him anymore. He had finally given up, Chanyeol thought. That was a weight off his shoulders, for sure. Days slowly dwindled down back to what it was. Chanyeol barely talked at work, except to discuss some practicalities of the blueprint. He wrote in his notebook even more, the old brown leather one finally running out of pages. Chanyeol took a new one from the box in his apartment, one he kept in a secret place behind the walls of the kitchen. 

Long letters to Sehun, earnest descriptions of his quiet nights, his every exasperated exhale- they all translated into words, lining up in fine print. He went to the town central more these days, just watching, just writing. 

Sometimes when Kyungsoo was there, he'd sit right behind Chanyeol in the steps that led to the wrecked town hall. They won't say a word to each other. In fact, both pretended like the other didn't exist. Then, when Chanyeol went back around mid-afternoon, Kyungsoo would follow, only separating to go back to his apartment complex right beside Chanyeol's. 

The clock in the sky chimed midnight, and Chanyeol's pencil paused on the paper. His confused questions about Kyungsoo have made half the page, and Chanyeol wondered if the other was still trying to befriend him. In a weird and quiet way, slipping into his company and taking up what would have been Sehun's space had the man still be alive.

 _I don't understand,_ he wrote, _what does he want from me?_

 

 

 

"You know, you could give them a chance." Sehun had said once when they were in a club late on a Saturday night. The thumping bass of the music and blinking lights only made Chanyeol dizzy, and he squinted at the girls who were blatantly checking him out.

"No thanks." He murmured. Nothing against the girls, they were plenty attractive, but Chanyeol didn't really plan on hooking up tonight. Not to any eye looking him up and down. He didn't even know why he came to the club in the first place. Something about accompanying Sehun do research for his next photography project?

"What's your project about anyway?" Chanyeol asked after a while, when he had gotten used to the loud music and annoyingly bright lights. Sehun pursed his lips, eyes still sweeping around the dance floor.

"Dancing." Sehun said shortly. Chanyeol hummed, trying to see what was worthy of photographing in club dancing. It was just a mess of limbs and grinds. Sweat against sweat, body against body. Chanyeol shuddered.

"Club dancing is sleazy isn't it?" Sehun chuckled, and Chanyeol nodded his agreement. "But look at those girls over there."

Chanyeol looked at where Sehun pointed, to a group of girls smiling brightly as they jumped to the rhythm. They seemed genuinely happy, arms around each other and in the air, their faces reflecting the strobe lights. "Sleazy as they come, they still bring joy. That's...kinda fascinating."

Chanyeol regarded Sehun then. It never failed to amaze him how his younger friend see more insight to things than he ever will. He cleared his throat. "Guess things are more fun when you do it with people you actually love." 

Sehun grinned, looking at Chanyeol with mirth in his eyes. "Aw Chanyeol, aren't you just full of cheese?"

"I'm a writer," Chanyeol huffed, but grinned quickly afterwards. "It's kinda like how I stare at sunsets and follow you on your project quests even if those things don't interest me. _You_ make them interesting."

Sehun's eyes widened slightly, mouth gaping. His cheeks flush as he smiled shyly. "You're too good of a friend Chanyeol."

"You are too, Sehun." He replied, smiling. Their hands joined, and in this stupid club with it's mess of a people, and uncomfortable stools, Chanyeol found himself satedly happy for the first time in a long while. 

 

 

 

Chanyeol concluded that Kyungsoo was still trying after all. He still tried to sit next to Chanyeol when lunchtime came, tried to get the same work as Chanyeol did, and followed quietly behind him when they were walking back home, albeit accompanied by Minseok. Chanyeol didn't know why Kyungsoo would try so hard. 

He never gave Kyungsoo the light of the day, always dismissing his efforts, yet Kyungsoo still _tried_. Bounced back up like rejection didn't even matter to him. Others would have just ignored him by now. It bothered Chanyeol to no end why anyone would even try this hard to befriend someone else. 

It bothered Chanyeol so much that this eagerness Kyungsoo was showing was exactly how _he_ was like pre-apocalypse.

Chanyeol turned away from Kyungsoo again, not for the first time, and probably not for the last either.

 

 

One cannot escape fate, Chanyeol guessed, as he, again was followed by Kyungsoo. Except this time Kyungsoo didn't stay quiet. He grabbed Chanyeol by the arm, forcing him to face Kyungsoo. "Come with me." 

"No." Chanyeol immediately said, turning to walk away.

"Why not?" Kyungsoo asked. When he didn't get any response, he tried again. "You like writing right? I have someone you might like to meet."

"I doubt so," Chanyeol called back, not even looking at Kyungsoo. 

"It's Kang Seulgi!" The name made him pause. Chanyeol turned this time, widened eyes meeting Kyungsoo's determined ones. "She mentioned you. She wants you to follow me."

Chanyeol numbly walked towards Kyungsoo, eyes narrowing. "If this is a ploy to get me to come with you-"

"It's not!" Kyungsoo cut him off, feet shuffling. "I really met her."

Chanyeol sighed. What was the harm in following Kyungsoo anyway? He nodded towards him, letting Kyungsoo take him to where Seulgi was, leading him with a bionic hand on Chanyeol's wrist. Chanyeol wondered why he didn't flinch away.

 

 

Kang Seulgi was Chanyeol's editor pre-apocalypse. He had always presumed she died in the apocalypse, having never heard of her in the last five years at all. She was always a classy girl, prim and proper at first glance. And when Chanyeol walked into the old cafe in the side of town, he saw that has yet to change. Seulgi sat primly in a wooden chair, legs crossed in front of her, an old plaid shawl over her shoulders. Her hair was tied in a tight ponytail, and she somehow looked put together- her skin totally clean, as if it had not been affected by the dust that strongly circulates the country.

She embraced Chanyeol immediately upon seeing him. Even in the midst of this chaos and slow rebuilding, Seulgi still smelled like roses. Chanyeol wondered how. 

"How are you?" Her eyes had tears brimming and Chanyeol felt his heart give, fondly smiling at her.

"I'm fine, Seulgi." He let his hands rest on her shoulders longer. It's been such a long time since he felt familiar human contact. "I thought you died, you were gone for five years with no trace of contact."

"I'm sorry, I-I travelled a lot, helping the country here and there." Seulgi finally gestured to the seats and they both sat down across each other. Chanyeol looked behind him to offer Kyungsoo a seat too, but the cafe was empty besides the owner and the two of them. Seulgi soon distracted him in small talk and their catch-up session made him forget about Kyungsoo. 

They carefully avoided any topics of death. Seulgi asked about Sehun, but Chanyeol's silence told enough. They changed the topic quickly when it even breached about the loss of their loved ones.

"-what about you? Heard you're working as a construction worker?" Seulgi asked, fixing the position of her shawl.

He sheepishly nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "I figured why write when no one would read."

Seulgi stared at him for a while, playing with her nails. It was a habit she had when they first met; and Chanyeol was strangely relieved to see it stayed. "What if I tell you to write a short story that was friendly for kids to read?"

"What?" Chanyeol blinked, staring at Seulgi in wonder. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a caretaker at an orphanage now. And the kids there- Chanyeol, they need something to keep them going so I've been rewriting folklore as I remember it and reading it to them," Seulgi cracked her knuckles, breathing through her nose. She smiled. "They loved it. So I kept doing it again and again. But you know writing isn't my forte, it's yours."

"I haven't written in years." Chanyeol murmured.

"Then start again now." Seulgi said, almost pouting. "Do it for old times' sake?"

Chanyeol sighed, looking away. The seconds tick by in Chanyeol's head, getting faster at Seulgi's intent stare. "Fine. I'll give it a try."

Seulgi's squeal of excitement was almost enough to curb Chanyeol's doubt.

 

 

 

Passionate fire could fall short at times. The cold has fallen. With it, snowflakes fell in soft flurries, collecting on branches and blanketing the streets. Chanyeol opened his palm, letting one rest on his warmth. When he looked up, Sehun was in front of him, camera in hand as he took a shot.

“Pretty,” was all he said, before looking up at the sky himself. They were in the park, Chanyeol’s usual dark and oversized coat was gone, replaced by a tan one that was exactly his size. It was a present from Sehun, because apparently Chanyeol wore too many clothes that were at least two sizes bigger. 

They reached the lake that they came for after hot chocolate and piping hot sweet potatoes. Skates on, scarf wrapped around his neck twice, and his one hand still in Sehun’s, they touched the ice, making their way across and around. Serenity wrapped around them like a warm hug, and Sehun, with his cheeks flushed, took more pictures that day. He found beauty in the trees, in the falling little girl, in the ice that had been sliced on by the skates. He found beauty in his surrounding, in his company, in Chanyeol. 

And as Chanyeol grinned up at him from the floor which he had fallen on, he thought that maybe he had found the utmost beauty in friendship too.

 

 

“I can't write a thing,” Chanyeol whined as soon as he met Seulgi again. It was the same old cafe as last time. The chair creaked beneath Chanyeol’s weight. “I really don't know how to write anymore.”

Seulgi rolled her eyes, hands tucked under her chin as she stared at Chanyeol. “You don't know what to write about, do you?”

He sighed, slumping even more in his seat. It was answer enough. Seulgi hummed, taking a sip of her tea before standing up. She dragged Chanyeol along, urging him with a simple beckon. 

“Where are we going?” Chanyeol had stupidly worn a thick sweater that day for reasons unknown to even himself. 

Seulgi didn't look at him, though she did try to walk faster when she saw him sweat more than usual. “The orphanage.”

It doesn't seem like Chanyeol had a choice in the matter, so he tagged along. They made a few turns down the town, before ducking into an alleyway where they passed by small shops selling random trinkets- bracelets and the like. Chanyeol had never seen these kind of shops anywhere, so he paused to stare in awe, before Seulgi was forced to pull him along. 

Chanyeol looked up from the cracked pavement when Seulgi stopped. The orphanage was small. A teal two-storey house with sunflowers painted on it's sides and roses by the doors. Chanyeol’s hand barely drifted over them. “The children painted these?”

“Yeah,” Seulgi was following his hand with her eyes, fond smile tickling her lips. The magic broke when someone cleared their throat from behind them. Chanyeol turned, bowing when he saw that it was a worker there.

“Joohyun,” Seulgi greeted, before gesturing to Chanyeol. “This is Chanyeol, the ex-writer I was talking about?”

Joohyun bowed, but said nothing else as she pushed past them and into the house, ignoring Chanyeol’s ‘hello’. And Chanyeol thought _he_ was unfriendly.

“Don't mind Joohyun. She has a hard time welcoming new people into her life.” Seulgi said apologetically, before pushing the wooden door open, welcoming Chanyeol in. “Well Chanyeol, welcome to Sunflower Meadows. The kids are going to love you.”

He trailed in meekly, listening to Seulgi explain every room’s function and greeting every kid that came by with a huge smile. The place was modestly charming. Everything felt homely, welcoming, warm. Chanyeol couldn't put his finger on what exactly made it so, but seeing the children play with what they have (which wasn't much), and talking animatedly over fruits, pestering Seulgi to tell them a bedtime story that night- all of it made Chanyeol nostalgic.

“Uncle Chanyeol is going to tell you guys the story today,” Seulgi said, nudging him at the side. “Right?”

Chanyeol widened his eyes as an indication of rejection, but when he glanced at the kids, he couldn't deny their pouts. He was weak against all these small humans. He sighed. “Yes I will.”

Seulgi grinned, whisking him away from the high-pitched cheers to meet the workers. All of them seemed to be having tea time, gathered around a breakfast bar in the kitchen. He stood awkwardly by the side, staring at and being stared at by the four of them. Seulgi, Joohyun, a guy named Jongin and Jongin’s brother, Junmyeon. “There are more volunteers but these are the full-time ones.”

He lifted a hand, an attempt at a nonchalant greeting even as discomfort creeped up his neck. He had to take a breath. Seulgi had a set of four in her team back before the apocalypse as well. The striking difference between then and now made his heart plummet. His stomach hurt. 

Junmyeon immediately offered him some tea, gesturing him to take a seat and pushing plain biscuits towards him. Chanyeol tuned out most of the conversation, especially when it became more and more about the orphanage’s management. 

“Uncle, are you ready to read a story for us?” A kid asked, tugging on his hand. He glanced at Seulgi, waiting for an affirmation and walking off with the kid after getting an encouraging nod. Three encouraging nods, to be exact (courtesy of Jongin and Junmyeon.)

The room the kid led him to was big, all the kids sitting in a semicircle around an empty floor space. There wasn't much in the room at all, only a table at the front where piles of paper were lined up, pens accompanying it at the side. Silence fell over the fifty kids as Chanyeol walked in. 

The kid that dragged him- Doyoung was his name, as he so eagerly screamed into Chanyeol’s ear- urged Chanyeol to sit on the floor, then picking a book from the table, passing it to him. 

The book was worn. It was really a bunch of papers tied together to keep it bound. Chanyeol leafed through, meeting Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Cinderella and even princesses he had never heard of. It even had drawings in it, finely detailed and inked. He wondered who did all of it. 

“Uncle?” Doyoung again. Chanyeol tried to smile.

He read Cinderella for them, trying to pick his tone up and make the characters all have different voices. The kids enjoyed it, laughing loudly and exclaiming angrily at the unjust way the stepmother treated Cinderella. After a while, Chanyeol found himself so immersed in storytelling. He placed the book down, telling the story his way, from what _he_ remembered. 

He had forgotten what it felt like- storytelling- but as he looked into every bright-eyed child in the room, he suddenly remembered. He was reminded of why he started writing again. _This_ \- their smiles, their vivid eagerness, a fuel to their imagination- it was the whole reason Chanyeol started writing in the first place.

The Doyoung kid tugged at his pant leg when he was just leaving. “The others never told the story like you Uncle. I hope you can come again.”

Chanyeol grinned, ruffling the kid’s hair but not promising anything. His heart felt light, floating in the abyss of satisfaction. He held onto the feeling tightly, bringing it with him as he got home, ready to pull out a notebook and write.

 

 

 

Town square, Saturday, 7 p.m. Kyungsoo sat beside Chanyeol, watching him tear off and scrunch pages after pages, trying to think of something that would amaze the kids enough. Something new that held relevance with their universe now. Something to teach them a little about hope. 

“Need help?” Kyungsoo asked, resting his head on his hand. Chanyeol shook his head, staring at the next page, then at the people walking past, the town hall behind them, and finally at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo with his curious eyes, lazy smile, and bionic arm. He simply raised a brow at Chanyeol staring. 

Kyungsoo was a cyborg. And if there was one thing that clearly defined the world now compared to then, it was _him_. _Cyborgs_.

“Can I make you the model of this children’s book I'm writing?” Chanyeol excitedly murmured, grasping Kyungsoo by the arm.

“Sure?” Kyungsoo replied, although he looked unsure himself. “Do I need to do anything?”

“Just be ready to tell me things when I ask them.” 

Kyungsoo blinked, humming thoughtfully. “Okay then, does this mean we're friends now?”

Chanyeol made a face at that. “If we are then you have a very loose meaning of friendship.”

 

 

 

Bright and early on a Sunday morning, Chanyeol found himself in a bus that choked too much smoke and gas for it to be functioning as well as it did. Mrs Song was beside him, hands clutched tightly in front of her as the bus rumbled along. 

The leather of the seats were cracked, and Chanyeol played with the fabric, tearing it even bigger. There was a huge hole in the seat beside his now. He was lucky no one cared much for torn fabrics these days.

The city that flashed by the windows was not the one Chanyeol grew up with. Construction upon construction, ruined buildings, and fallen walls; Chanyeol felt and saw the change clearer then. Where it used to be skyscrapers against another, big shopping malls and proud penthouses, destroyed bricks were all that remained. Chanyeol watched the people milling about in silence. Neither he nor Mrs Song felt like talking.

Five years was a long time. Chanyeol could barely remember what life had been like before. He remembered Sehun in vivid detail, but he forgot his own feelings, forgot how he viewed things, forgot what else was around him. 

The bus stopped after an hour and everyone alighted. Chanyeol followed behind Mrs Song, tugging the sleeves of his thin shirt down past his knuckles. The temples had to be one of the things the country preserved really well; thick trees followed the stone path, leading up to a small shrine, then a huge red temple. In some ways praying was still the same, a stick of incense burnt and clasped between palms. Chanyeol had never been an avid worshipper so he didn't remember any of the prayers but he still closed his eyes, thinking of his life now, thinking of Mrs Song, thinking of Sehun. 

They stopped by a young kid who was selling lanterns by the forest. Mrs Song bought two, one for herself and one for Chanyeol. He didn't know what they were for but he still took the flimsy lantern, following behind Mrs Song through the forest. Up the pathway laid a river where lanterns covered every surface of the water. He didn't think that was the most Green Earth-savvy thing ever. 

Mrs Song took out a matchbox from her pocket, holding Chanyeol’s hands as she lit his lantern, the paper slowly burning away. “Put it in the river quickly.”

Chanyeol did as told, although with a very questioning raise of his brow. “The paper disappear into the afterlife,” Mrs Song murmured, chuckling when Chanyeol looked at her incredulously. “That's what they say anyway.”

“Your essence carries with it so the dead always knows who it's for.” Mrs Song continued.

“So a delivery system somewhat is what this river is?” Chanyeol mused. Mrs Song nodded, lighting her own lantern on fire and letting it rest on the river to follow the current. “Somewhere, Minhyun will pick that up and know that I'm always thinking of him, that I'm always missing him, that I'll always love him. Dead or not.”

He wrapped Mrs Song's hand in his own, waiting for the slow smile. Chanyeol didn't understand the mystic of religion. He didn't understand how one could trust so much on an unknown deity. But damn it, he had nowhere else to look for hope and this place, as stupid as it sounded, was the only one he had. Silent hoping and prayers furled onto the sky, wishing for more. And Mrs Song was the same.

The paper lanterns floated on the glinting river, peacefully making its way down. Chanyeol hoped it reached Sehun somehow, somewhere, and was able to make his best friend smile again.

 

 

 

 

Mrs Song cooked dinner again. Porridge this time with small tidbits of anchovy. Chanyeol exaggeratedly exclaims about how good the porridge is. Mrs Song loved it, Chanyeol knew.

“What have you been running off to recently? You're barely home these days.” Mrs Song questioned, taking a spoonful of porridge and waited for it to cool a little. 

“I'm writing a children’s book.” Chanyeol said, looking at his bowl with a small smile. “For the orphanage.”

He could feel Mrs Song’s stare, but he chose not to indulge. The porridge’s slightly thick consistency melted in Chanyeol’s mouth, and the anchovy gave it a saltier taste. Chanyeol took another bite, awkwardly clearing his throat before looking up at Mrs Song. Her eyes were wide and teary, mouth slightly gaping. “You're writing again?”

Chanyeol nodded, flushing. “Yeah, I met my old editor. She runs the orphanage.” 

“I have never been more happier than to hear that Chanyeol.” Mrs Song whispered, her hand on her chest as she looked at him. Her tender touch to his hand made Chanyeol realise that there was fondness in those eyes too. He didn't have the closest relationship with his parents pre-apocalypse. It was like the love between family just died amongst misunderstanding and fights. He hasn't seen true fondness in a long time. Chanyeol was...enchanted. He turned his hand upwards, intertwining his fingers with Mrs Song’s. 

Chanyeol may have lost a lot of things after the apocalypse, but he gained something else in Mrs Song.

 

 

 

He used to hate his family. His brother was never present at home, his parents were controlling and never really took the time to understand him. He was tired, always, after a conversation with his mom. He never even talked to his dad around that time. Ever. 

Home- to him- was never what it meant for other people. The cold walls and ignored pleas of warmth- it was never what Chanyeol had read about in novels. Never what he wished he could have. 

Maybe blubbering about his parents when he was drunk to a mutual was a mistake, but Chanyeol saw it as a blessing instead. The next day, his eyes opened to brightness everywhere around him, and Sehun with his head just by the pot plants Seungwan kept in her balcony. He groaned and laid flat again. Sehun, who had woken up from Chanyeol’s shifting, groaned as well from the light that directly hit them as they laid out in the open. They looked at each other, laughing, but stopped as quickly when their head pounded painfully. 

They hit it off. From meeting up for lunch, to dinner, to even breakfast. Then, it evolved slowly to doing everything together, and when Chanyeol roughly knocked on Sehun’s door after a huge fight with his parents, Sehun had offered him freedom in a simple key. “You're welcome to move in anytime hyung. There's a room set just for you.”

Sehun had been too good to be true. An angel in disguise. Chanyeol had embraced him tightly, wishing nothing but the prosperity of their friendship. And prosper it did. 

He moved in with Sehun, and suddenly his days had been filled with only encouragements to his dream. They had small fights of course, about Chanyeol not washing the dishes, about Sehun leaving his dirty laundry everywhere, about who gets to choose the movie for the night. It was like having a younger brother he never knew he wanted. A brother he never knew he _needed_.

“Hyung?” Chanyeol heard as soon as he stepped into the apartment. Four months in, and he already felt so comfortable looking at the teal walls. Sehun peeked from the doorway of the kitchen. “You're home early,”

“Meeting didn't go on forever as I thought it would.” Chanyeol replied, walking towards Sehun, and raising a brow when Sehun went out of the kitchen to push him onto the living room couch. 

“Kitchen is off-limits for you today.”

“May I know why?” Chanyeol looked up from where Sehun hovered over him. He may have a clue as to what was going on by the apron tied around Sehun’s torso. 

“You'll know soon.”

And when Sehun came out an hour later with a huge dinner and cake, Chanyeol beamed in delight. He hadn't had a birthday celebration in forever, and Sehun had known. “A proper celebration, for a proper friend.” 

Their glasses of iced lemon tea clinked, and Chanyeol had never felt more celebrated. He wolfed down the food that Sehun cooked even if they were burnt at some parts. The cake was store-bought and they indulged in the caramel buttercream together, humming happily at the sweet wash on their tongue. Chanyeol was afraid to call the apartment anything, but he definitely wasn't afraid to call Sehun home.

 

 

It rained heavily the moment the crew got into the locker room. Chanyeol stared out of the small window that the room provided, mouth downturned. He couldn't possibly leave now. Chanyeol sat down on the bench, rummaging through his locker for the spare set of clothing. He'd usually go home and bathe, but the weather clearly had different plans for him. 

Kyungsoo was beside him in the shower. Chanyeol had chosen a corner where no attention would be on him. He tried not to look at Kyungsoo as he turned the faucet but his eyes wandered to Kyungsoo’s own. He jolted a little when their eyes met. “What?”

Kyungsoo said nothing, just smiling. “It's nice to see you here once in a while.”

“Why...wait what do you mean?”

“You're always the loner, you know?” Kyungsoo turned his own faucet, letting the water hit his chest as he talked. Chanyeol should be looking at his face instead of Kyungsoo's chest. “Never wanted to socialise. Baekhyun told me you never even replied to him when he talked to you.”

“That was rude of me, wasn't it?” Chanyeol could hear the judgement already. He chose this lifestyle anyway. He was used to it.

“Pretty rude,” Kyungsoo mused, chuckling. “But that's none of my business, is it?”

Chanyeol continued to stare even as Kyungsoo got back to his own doing. He blinked. That was unexpected of Kyungsoo, if he was being honest. He let the shower stream run on his head, letting his thoughts follow the water down to the floor. 

Kyungsoo wasn't so bad after all.

 

 

 

 

The storm has still not let up. Chanyeol sat quietly at the side of the workroom, doodling in his notebook. He probably should write for the children’s book, but every inch of his body protested actually being productive. So he doodled and wrote little notes about Kyungsoo’s mannerisms. 

He liked to scratch his nose with the only one specific finger- his right index one- he had a stubble growing, his smile was really bright and wide when he's laughing. In fact, it was really, _really_ pretty. Chanyeol blanched at the thought, but there was nothing wrong with simple honesty. 

Kyungsoo also liked to look at Chanyeol a lot. Their eyes have met more than ten times in the last hour. Chanyeol wondered why.

The answer came later when Kyungsoo walked towards him, asking if he wanted to join him and the others in a game. He blinked up at Kyungsoo, staring at the metal hands clasped together in a plea, “Come on, we're going to be stuck here forever.”

Chanyeol didn't know what made him wrap his hand around Kyungsoo’s own, didn't know why the bright smile he got in return made him smile so widely, didn't know why he felt so warm as he sat beside Kyungsoo and felt the other’s hand on his thigh. Staying there. 

They played a game of mafia. Chanyeol hadn't played it for so long, but still felt the same giddiness when he took the small scroll of paper. _Victim_. 

He looked at the others carefully, avoiding some eyes carefully (mainly Baekhyun’s), before stopping right at Kyungsoo. The man winked, and Chanyeol let out a breath of laughter as he turned away, holding up his arms in surrender. 

In the midst of chuckles, Chanyeol could feel his heart thudding. Kyungsoo had looked...attractive when he winked just now. Chanyeol glanced at him again, watching the tug of his lips widen when he winked at yet another unsuspecting person.

He realised that if he had met Kyungsoo before the apocalypse, maybe he would have hit on Kyungsoo. They could have dated even. Chanyeol was always a hopeless person when he was in love. 

The realisation scalded him, and he stared at his toes, trailing his eyes on the crooked nails. But maybe that wasn't so bad. Being attracted to someone. _Feeling_ something other than sadness. He sighed, resting his head on the wall behind. Kyungsoo glanced at him, murmuring, “Are you okay?”

Chanyeol stared at Kyungsoo, not saying anything. The thick eyebrows were messy at the corners, his lips were thick, his eyes wide. Kyungsoo looked adorable. Exactly Chanyeol’s type. Fuck.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked quietly, and when Kyungsoo’s eyes widen even more, Chanyeol pressed on. “I was never nice to you. I even ignored you most times. The others all let me be after a while. Why not you?”

Kyungsoo looked down, playing with his fingers. “I just...I don't want anyone to feel alone.”

“Why would it matter to you if someone does?” Chanyeol was confused. Post apocalypse had only shown how much people cared about themselves more than anything. He realised then that yes, Kyungsoo always made sure he talked to everyone, smiled at everyone, always so considerate. 

“It doesn't feel good okay?” Kyungsoo gritted out. “Feeling lonely sucks.”

Something about the tone in Kyungsoo’s voice made Chanyeol’s next question lock in his throat. He knew cyborgs were made from the human beings that still had a lot of their pieces intact. Chanyeol remembered requesting it for Sehun but not succeeding. Sehun had lost too much- he stopped his thought there. 

The game continued. Kyungsoo tricked more people and was declared the winner of the round. Chanyeol tried to get immersed in the game again, and for the most part, he did. But he couldn't help looking at Kyungsoo, wondering what exactly the cyborg had gone through pre-apocalypse and post.

 

 

 

When he got back home that night, Chanyeol pondered about the last five years. He flipped through journals upon journals from when he just started finding his ground. In the beginning, all his entries would start with ‘To: Sehun’. He had been even more distraught then. So alone in a world so big that had been destroyed. Chanyeol had no one.

_To: Sehun_

_Winter is way harsher in the dead of night. Way harsher when you don't have blankets either. There had been no food available, and I grew desperate. It's been three whole days. Remember when you wanted us to go through that survival course thing? I wish I had gone now._

_I just wish you were here. Maybe then winter wouldn't be so cold._

_28th December 2017_

Chanyeol closed his earliest journal, then picked up the newest one. He grabbed his pen, resting it on the paper. He hadn't written for a while. Thinking more about the children's book, rather than about whatever thoughts milled his mind. It felt like he was betraying Sehun. Chanyeol can't do that.

He spent a whole hour just writing. The air outside had been colder for a while now. He knew the warm seasons were passing by. The anniversary was coming. 

Chanyeol slipped out of his apartment, walking down towards the street. He had no direction he wanted to go to, but his feet somehow brought him to the huge mound at the far side of the city. It was a long walk but he needed the time. Chanyeol sat by the mound, not climbing it. Merely stared at it from the side. Somewhere beneath all that earth was Sehun’s body. Tears prickled his eyes. Sehun deserved better.

“Chanyeol?”

He looked up, finding Kyungsoo by the earth. He was digging the soil for some reason. Chanyeol tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“Gardening.” Kyungsoo said. The wind picked up, and Chanyeol stood, walking towards where Kyungsoo was sat. Flowers of different colours and different shapes covered the ground in front of Kyungsoo. Chanyeol couldn't believe he had never seen it in all his visits to the mound before. Kyungsoo had been planting flowers all around the perimeter, smartly beginning from the back, so people who visited didn't see till they climb up. 

“You did all this?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo replied, still digging through the soil with his bare metal hands. “I’ve always loved gardening, and these hands are stronger than my old ones would ever be. Might as well make use of it.”

Chanyeol crouched beside him, staring at the way Kyungsoo dug out the soil, placed the flower in the hole, then patted the soil back in place. “Mind if I do one?”

Kyungsoo raised a brow, but agreed nonetheless, passing some lavenders towards Chanyeol. He imitated what Kyungsoo did, wondering why he was even offering to help but got lost in the actions to even think about it. Picking up more flowers from Kyungsoo’s pile, not even noticing the other’s gaze as he worked his way halfway around.

“We can stop here,” Kyungsoo said, grabbing hold of Chanyeol’s forearm. The random assortment of flowers stood in a semi-circle, and they should look awkward, but Chanyeol found them beautiful. 

“Where did you even get these flowers?”

“The forest has more than most people would think,” Kyungsoo walked ahead of him, dusting the dirt off his pants, then turned around to do the same for Chanyeol. He smiled in thanks and Kyungsoo beamed back, “What were you doing here in the middle of the night anyway?”

Chanyeol looked away, scratching his cheek awkwardly. “Couldn't sleep.”

Kyungsoo hummed. “I can relate.”

They looked at each other then, and Chanyeol couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. Nothing warranted a chuckle, yet he found some sort of amusement in the situation. “Past caught up with me, how about you?”

“Same.” Kyungsoo grinned. “The world is way different now compared to last time. It's impossible not to think about it from time to time.”

A sigh escaped his lips. He was feeling the brunt of crouching for a long time, his back aching as he walked. The moon lit the streetway for them, Chanyeol stepped on its light. “I just don't know if it’s better or not.”

“Definitely not better,” Kyungsoo whispered, “but not entirely worse either.”

Chanyeol looked at him- couldn't seem to divert his gaze even as Kyungsoo met it. There was something playful in Kyungsoo's smile. “There's beauty in the smallest things, you know. There are some things here you just don't get before.”

“Yeah, despair, hunger, sadness- to name a few.”

“We got that well even before, don't you think?” Kyungsoo asked, stunning Chanyeol into silence. They’ve reached their apartment complex, and Kyungsoo gave an eager wave as he skipped away to his house. Chanyeol took the steps one at a time, his brain flooded with thoughts. 

He never thought about it that way. Never thought about things Kyungsoo’s way, and he was scared to admit that Kyungsoo was right.

 

 

 

Sunflowers peeked up the walls and met vines of roses by the door. Chanyeol entered the orphanage again, this time brighter than he was before. Doyoung spotted him first and immediately ran towards him, holding his hand tightly as he retold his exaggerated tales of how Mr.Monkey (an old rag doll that has it's strands of hair tied into buns by its ears) and the Princess (actually Doyoung’s younger sister, Yerim) fell in love and fought the dragon. 

“We don't have a dragon yet though,” Doyoung said, pouting down at the rag doll and his sister. 

Chanyeol smiled, “I can be the dragon for you,”

“Really?” Doyoung asked, eyes brightening almost immediately. Chanyeol nodded eagerly, crouching as soon as Doyoung let out a whoop of excitement. “You don't have to do much Uncle, just growl at Mr Monkey and the Princess!”

Chanyeol did as told, resisting the urge to smile when Yerim started giggling. He was so busy roaring at Yerim, he almost didn't hear Doyoung muttering and scribbling on paper towels. He stopped short, turning his head towards Doyoung. 

The boy was crouched over, a blue crayon in hand as he continued to murmur things to himself. Chanyeol picked himself up from the floor, not forgetting to scratch Yerim playfully one last time before sitting next to Doyoung, peeking over his shoulder. “What’s that?”

Doyoung jumped slightly, looking up at Chanyeol and shyly whispered, “I'm writing a story,”

“A story?” Chanyeol repeated, taking the paper towels from Doyoung when it was offered. The surface was marked with blue everywhere. Chanyeol could make out distinct words; about a dark-scaled dragon, a pink-cheeked princess and a dashing little monkey. The bottom half was just full of drawings, a depiction of the tale above. 

“Yerim wants to find the magical world one day,” Doyoung said while scratching his nose, “but I don't really think that's possible. Or well, I'm sure it would take a _really_ long time, so I wrote one out for her. Just like you and Auntie Seulgi did!”

His hands were frozen. Chanyeol knew there were tears underneath his eyelids and if he opened them, Doyoung’s paper towels would only get wet. Chanyeol took a deep breath. “This is amazing Doyoung,”

“You think so?”

“You're going to make so many people happy, you know that, right?” Chanyeol patted Doyoung on the back, smiling when he asked, “Especially Yerim?”

Chanyeol looked at the younger girl playing with the rag doll, fixing her paper crown from time to time. “ _Especially Yerim_.”

 

 

 

The orphanage’s backyard was a garden of some sorts. Joohyun was on the ground now, picking the weeds or something. Chanyeol didn't know. He was never an expert with greenery. He approached the garden, crouching to crumble the soil between his hands. Kyungsoo would love this plot of land. All for him to plant his little flowers. 

“What are you doing on the ground?” A bright voice inquired, crouching right beside him. He was shocked to find that it was Jongdae, an old ukulele in his hand, the wood old. “Didn't think gardening was your thing,”

“It's not,” Chanyeol murmured, looking down at the ground. Jongdae had always intimidated him. Maybe it was something about his smile, or maybe Chanyeol was really that sad that any signs of happiness made Chanyeol retract. Made him want to leave.

“Hmm,” Jongdae’s hum was melodious, filled with energy and mirth. Chanyeol regarded him. Kim Jongdae was always a mystery to him. So bright and so bubbly- he wondered how he did it. Chanyeol tilted his head, letting the question slip out, “You came here to volunteer?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae replied, eyes lighting up. He was surprised Chanyeol initiated a conversation. Chanyeol could tell. “I sing for the kids sometimes. They love it.”

“You can sing?”

“Yup!” Jongdae rested on the ground, shoulders laid back. “If you stay long enough, you'd probably be lucky enough to hear,”

There was a lull in the conversation after Chanyeol told Jongdae he was planning to stay. It wasn't awkward though. Chanyeol didn't feel the urge to escape and run. It felt...nice. 

“Kyungsoo should be coming soon,” Jongdae said when he looked up at the clock in the sky. Chanyeol blinked in surprise. “Kyungsoo volunteers here?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae nodded, looking at Chanyeol again. The mirth was still in his eyes. Chanyeol wondered what was so funny. “He sings with me, sometimes.” 

“Kyungsoo can sing too...huh.” 

“He has a really good voice.” Jongdae said, then added playfully, “not better than mine though.”

“I guess I can be the judge of that later,” Chanyeol smirked, a challenge in his eyes. Jongdae was taken aback, Chanyeol could see it in his eyes. He hadn't been the most friendly so Chanyeol couldn't really blame him. Jongdae laughed then, breaking all the awkwardness Chanyeol could feel creeping up. 

“I have the voice of an angel. Kyungsoo can't beat me.”

“We'll see.” Chanyeol replied, looking back up at the sky. He felt a thrum of something at the bottom of his belly. He didn't know what it was but it certainly felt nice. 

Really, really nice.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo came before dinner, and Chanyeol had the satisfaction of seeing his confused gaze turn into something warmer as his lips lift. How natural was it to feel his heart thunder along his chest? Not very natural, he guessed. 

He was giddy in his seat as Jongdae and Kyungsoo set up in the common room. He hadn't listened to real music in years. What he listens to are usually from passing musicians down the street with their old harmonicas and random bottles. He was excited. 

Jongdae smiled at the kids trying to climb up his lap. His fingers around the ukulele tighten, and when he began the first notes, the first few strums- Chanyeol knew it was going to be amazing. He didn't know what song it was, but Jongdae sounded absolutely beautiful. His voice was even better than Chanyeol expected. It was- in more ways than one- uplifting.

Kyungsoo didn't sing at all, except for some harmonization with Jongdae. Even then, it already sounded good. Chanyeol wondered how he would sound, when he was just singing alone. 

“Sad you didn't get to sing much,” Chanyeol said in passing, and Kyungsoo grinned up at him. 

“My voice is for VIPs only.”

“Really?” Chanyeol questioned, his mouth twitching at its corners. It was an effect he would get every time he spoke to Kyungsoo. “How do I get on that VIP list?”

Kyungsoo shrugged, about to say something but Jongdae clearing his throat cut him off. The amusement was back in his eyes as he looked at Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. “As much as your flirting entertains me, we have to go, Kyungsoo.”

“Where are you guys going?” 

“Meeting up with Baekhyun and Minseok,” Kyungsoo responded. “You can come with.”

“I don't know-”

“Oh yes,” Jongdae interrupted, ukulele in hand and excitement in his voice. “We were going to play basketball, I think.”

“I don't know...I owe a story to these little kids.”

“Oh. That's too bad then,” Jongdae pouted, “You'll join us next time though, right?”

Eager eyes met Chanyeol’s, and he couldn't bring it in himself to say no. So he sighed, nodding along. “Yeah sure, why not?” 

Jongdae grinned, walking off with a wave. “See you then, come on Kyungsoo!”

Kyungsoo stayed rooted on his spot, looking at Chanyeol hesitantly, as if he could read in his eyes that Chanyeol actually really wanted to follow. Since when was Chanyeol a socialist? He didn't have an answer. “I think I'll stay back with Chanyeol. Tell the others I'm sorry,”

“Oh,” Jongdae voiced, before smirking. “Well then, see you both next time.”

Chanyeol felt relieved and the thundering in his heart? It got louder when Kyungsoo led him out of the common room by the wrist. He had to ask. “Why did you stay?”

“I wanted to spend time with you,” Kyungsoo said, smiling hesitantly. It made Chanyeol’s toes curl. “It’s the only thing I've been wanting since we first met,”

“But…” Chanyeol wondered if he had ever been nice to Kyungsoo. He didn't think so. He had rejected the man countless times, and insisted on being alone more times than not. “Why?”

A flush of red appeared on Kyungsoo’s cheeks then, and he shuffled his feet. “I- I don't know. But you're willing to spend time now, aren't you?”

Chanyeol gaped. He hadn't even realised how willingly he had been to their requests, to their offer of friendship. Deep down, he could feel the spark of panic. His hands trembled slightly, but he clenched it tightly into a fist. “For the book,” he gruffly muttered.

The light in Kyungsoo’s eyes dimmed slightly. His eyebrows furrowed, eyeing Chanyeol worriedly, before smiling. “Of course. For the book.”

Chanyeol didn't want to be cautious. Didn't want to be wary. Yet he could feel himself sinking into that again. He wished those fears, that grip of the demon around his mind would disappear, and he could be the Chanyeol he was before.

One thought of Sehun though, and Chanyeol retreated from the fight with the demon.

 

 

 

Sehun loved listening to Chanyeol sing. It was one of his smaller, minor talents. He only ever did it when he was in a pinch though. A guitar in hand, Chanyeol would sing to himself. He preferred not to think about his surroundings. Just staring at a wall as he strummed, words leaving his lips and greeting the walls. The heavy bricks that held him down would suddenly be lifted, his fuzzy mind cleared slowly. 

Chanyeol didn't look for applause, never did. Sehun gave it to him freely though. He remembered the needless whoops of pride, and Chanyeol would smile. Playing more songs like One OK Rock’s mellower songs, Yuna, and some of Taylor Swift's classics- Sehun would deny it, but he _loved_ Taylor Swift. 

He didn't think much. It was a time for them both to let go. Sehun was ashamed of his voice, but Chanyeol would coax him anyway, leaving some lines blank for Sehun to fill in. They'd sit there, Chanyeol on his chair, and Sehun on his bed, and they would sing for hours. Stopping occasionally to listen to more songs and learn it on the guitar together. 

Time never slowed for men, but at those times, it felt like time was doing Chanyeol a few favours. It lengthened itself, and let him savour the happiness. Time was kind, then.

 

 

 

Four minutes. Chanyeol sat on the bench at work, fiddling with his face mask. He was so confused about a lot of things. Work had ended ages ago, but Chanyeol couldn't get himself to move. The notebook for the children's story was laid in front of him, and Chanyeol didn't know whether he wanted to rip it all off or keep it, nurture it. 

"Oh? You're still here?" Chanyeol closed his eyes. He hated that he recognised the voice. The deep timbre that wrapped around him like a soft blanket.

Chanyeol sighed softly, "Yeah, I'm trying to work on something."

Kyungsoo approached him, looking over his shoulder at the notebook. There were no words uttered, and Chanyeol didn't know if he should say something.

On the pages were just a few words. A boy named D.O. who found a cyborg cat and nurtured it back to health. A simple story really, but Chanyeol couldn't help but feel insecure about it.

"D.O.?"

"Yeah," Chanyeol looked away, ashamed. "It's your family name with full stops, you know?"

"Creative." Kyungsoo commented, smile giving away his amusement. Chanyeol shrugged. "Well, that's my whole writing career for you."

"Promising."

"Your one-word comments are hurting my ego."

Kyungsoo grinned, feigning innocence. "They're good comments though?"

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes, ignoring the flutter in his chest at Kyungsoo's chuckle. Kyungsoo continued to look through the notebook, flipping the pages and reading all his little plans. Not that there were much to begin with. 

"What are you doing here anyway?" Chanyeol asked as he watched Kyungsoo. Not his hands flipping through, rather his face. The scrunched eyebrows, the small lift at the corner of his lips. The scrunch in his nose every time he came  
across the name of his character. Chanyeol gulped. 

"Left something," Kyungsoo replied. "Realised it was in my pocket the whole time,"

Chanyeol shook his head, snickering. "Didn't know you were such a ditz."

"You don't know a lot about me." Kyungsoo said, finally looking up at Chanyeol. His eyes were searching. Chanyeol should look away, but he couldn't. He didn't know why. His eyes were stuck. "And I don't know a lot about you either."

Kyungsoo played with his metal fingers, smiling sheepishly at the ground. Chanyeol swallowed the thickness clogging his throat. His exhale was low, but it made Kyungsoo glance up again. Fear clotted his chest, his mind, but Chanyeol felt a surge of something else in there. Bravery? He didn't think he had that anymore.

"We can fix that."

 

 

 

The cafe didn't serve much. Everyone was on a limited supply of food, but they all knew the real purpose of the cafe. A sense of normalcy. A distraction. Chanyeol never went to it much, but he guessed Kyungsoo did. The owner recognised Kyungsoo immediately, and they sat at the table far at the back. 

"Remember coffee?" Kyungsoo asked, staring up at the cracked ceiling. Chanyeol nodded, albeit hesitantly. "I haven't had that in a long time. It used to be all I drink."

Chanyeol smiled sadly. "My friend, Sehun- he loved coffee a lot too. I preferred tea though. Can't get over the bitter notes."

"Ugh, you're a plebian. Now I know why we never talked."

Chanyeol scoffed, taking the offended nature easily. "Coffee tastes like drain water, and even looks like it."

"Insults like a plebian too."

"At least I _have_ insults."

"If you want to debate about which is better, bring it to court." Kyungsoo stated, "I'm classier than a simple banter."

Chanyeol laughed. "I forgot you were a lawyer."

"Wasn't the ideal career." Kyungsoo said, thanking the cafe owner when he gave them some herbal tea. "Not for me, at least."

"Let me guess, your parents were the owners of law firms and pressured you to follow their footsteps?" 

Kyungsoo grinned. "Spot-on."

"My parents were like that with me too, continuing the family business and all that." Chanyeol expressed. He looked at his hands on the table. "I escaped though, became a writer. As you know."

"It's weird," Kyungsoo whispered, looking at his own hands against the rickety wood. "I see the apocalypse as another chance. I know there were a lot of losses in the midst of it. I mean, I almost lost myself amongst all of it." 

Chanyeol's eyes widened at the implication, but didn't say anything. He placed his hand over Kyungsoo's though. The other looked up, smiling minutely. "But, when I stopped looking at the past, or well hanging onto it at least, I realised it was for the better."

"Letting go of the past..." Chanyeol mumbled. 

Kyungsoo nodded, shrugging. "It's not easy. The past- before the apocalypse- was better. Easier lives. But life now...it's more free."

They were blanketed in silence. Admiration, Chanyeol realised, was what he felt at the moment. Kyungsoo went through the same as Chanyeol. If not worse. He realised positivity wasn't for everyone, but if one could learn it, Chanyeol wanted to be it's number one student.

"What did you want to be originally?" Chanyeol asked, tightening his hold on Kyungsoo's hand. "Instead of a lawyer."

Kyungsoo's eyes twinkled. "Believe it or not, a writer."

 

 

 

The walk back to the apartment was filled with silence. Crickets coo into the night, and Chanyeol’s hands tuck into his coat pockets. He couldn't stop thinking about what Kyungsoo really wanted to do. Something that Chanyeol himself had. 

“Want to come with me tomorrow?” he asked, before he could stop himself. It wasn't his responsibility at all, but Chanyeol’s books always had dreams as their common theme. Someone in front of him still had that alive- Chanyeol should help him.

“To?”

“Town Hall,” Chanyeol said, looking at Kyungsoo and smiling. “We can get peanuts and write all day.”

“Why would I be writing?” Kyungsoo asked, amusement laced in his voice. Chanyeol rocked back on his feet, grinning sheepishly. “Well, I have a proposition.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“I want to give you your first writing gig,” Chanyeol said, looking at Kyungsoo hesitantly. There's a strange fear in his mind. It wouldn't matter if Kyungsoo rejected, of course, but Chanyeol really wanted him to take it for some reason. “You can take however long to decide. I don't mind.”

“It's not that I don't want to,” Kyungsoo laced his hands together in front of him. “I just...don't know if I can even write anymore. It's been five years.”

“Take your time Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol poked the cyborg’s nose without realising, and he revelled in the way Kyungsoo's face coloured. “If you want it, it'll be yours.”

Kyungsoo smiled, kind in the way his lips lift. There's something in his eyes- gratitude, maybe. “Thank you Chanyeol, I'll think it over. See you tomorrow.”

Kyungsoo continued to walk after waving at Chanyeol one last time, to the apartment complex next to his. Chanyeol was slow to step away from the pavement to his own home, wanting to watch Kyungsoo walk home till he can't see the silver glinting at the arm under a maroon tee.

 

 

 

The next morning, Chanyeol waited at the steps to the town hall. It was nine a.m. People were already milling, and Chanyeol spared some coins to buy the peanuts he promised Kyungsoo. Slivers of silver and bronze appeared, and Kyungsoo sat next to him on the steps, mouth curled as he shoved a couple peanuts in his mouth. His hand held a notebook, grey and weathered. “I hope you have a spare pencil.”

Chanyeol gave Kyungsoo a pencil, smiling when the other immediately began scribbling in his notebook, not saying another word to Chanyeol. “I'm guessing this is a yes?”

Kyungsoo didn't answer, instead choosing to continue writing. Chanyeol produced a new pencil from his pocket, writing on his own notebook. He got distracted by how Kyungsoo's bronze fingertips moved, and how effortlessly the other seemed to conjure his words. “You're writing quite a lot.”

“I've had this dream since I was fifteen, and only realising it ten years later.” Kyungsoo muttered, “You can say it's been a long time coming.” 

Chanyeol didn't write much that whole morning. Every time he did, his eyes would wander, taking note of the way Kyungsoo’s tshirt clung onto his arms, the parts where it was still human flesh and human muscles- how they flexed slightly at every movement. He also found fascination in the way Kyungsoo blinked- a lot- whenever he was thinking about something. His lips would purse slightly. Plush and pink with the slightest tinge of purple- Chanyeol swallowed. Harshly. He needed to find his ground again, shaking his head to throw away the distracting thoughts. 

When he looked down at the page he was at, he knew it was stupid to even think he could not think about Kyungsoo like that. Not when all he wanted to write about at the time was Kyungsoo's jet black hair, his thick brows that framed his face so well, his strong jawline, his cheekbones that weren't as sharp as Jongdae's, but still pretty attractive anyway.

Chanyeol had a fleeting thought- _he was fucked_ \- but didn't entertain it.

Not much, anyway.

 

 

 

On days like that day- when both Chanyeol and Sehun had an awful lot of free time, they'd either go out and explore more of the city, or they'd stay at home, watching every single Shrek movie and complaining an awful lot about the fourth one. 

The room would be dark, curtains drawn together and lights switched off. Every movement they made would be accompanied with a slight stumble. They'd order pizza, and cook instant noodles- Soto, a flavour they bought when they were in Indonesia, fell in love with, and just continued buying it. They went through extremes to find a place that sold that particular flavour of instant noodles.

On days like that day, Chanyeol would end up sleeping next to Sehun, arms tucked tightly around Sehun's waist. On days like that day, Chanyeol realised how lucky he was. How lucky he was to find Sehun. Not many could tolerate Chanyeol's noise, Chanyeol's clumsy limbs, Chanyeol's incessant chatter, but Sehun could.

Sehun could and Sehun did. 

On days like that day, Chanyeol slept knowing he'd wake up to the face of his best friend, then realise how lucky he was all over again.

 

 

He found himself at the mound again. This time, Kyungsoo came with him, not for the plants, but to accompany Chanyeol. They sat in silence, staring at the pile of earth. His eyes were always bleak when he came to the mound, but Kyungsoo's were too. Chanyeol looked at the cyborg, smiling softly when their eyes met. 

"My best friend's underneath there somewhere," Chanyeol suddenly said, tucking his knees underneath his chin. "I hoped and hoped he would be at the hospital but the bulletin board in the town centre told enough."

The day had been a nightmare almost. Chanyeol had felt all the blood in his face drain away when he saw the two words he feared the most. He had walked back to his apartment, listless, confused, anguished. 

Kyungsoo stood, and Chanyeol watched, confused as he walked to the back of the mound, maybe to do bits of his gardening again. He came back soon enough, a few stalks of lilies in his hand. Kyungsoo placed them right in front of the mound, gesturing Chanyeol to do the same. Chanyeol, curious, took the rest of the lilies, placing them on the ground in front of the mound too. "I don't know what the priests say in funerals, but I hope he had a good life. And I'm sure, with you by his side, he totally did."

Chanyeol had been crying too much, but he could feel the rush of tears again, staining his cheeks. He was in Kyungsoo's embrace soon enough, and he held on tightly. "I had a good life with him. He was willing to take care of my sorry ass. He was such a good person-"

Sobs pitched through his throat, and Kyungsoo rubbed his back, calming, a salve. Chanyeol tried to control his cries, but Kyungsoo coaxed them all out, assuring that it was fine. Telling him to let it all out. 

"What about you?" Chanyeol hiccupped, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Is there anyone you love underneath the mound?"

Kyungsoo wiped at the stray tears on Chanyeol's face, shaking his head. "I didn't love many before. No one I remotely liked is underneath the mound too."

"Your parents?"

Kyungsoo chuckled. "I don't love them, Chanyeol. It's hard to love someone who keeps using your naivety, don't you think?"

Chanyeol tilted his head, confused. Kyungsoo let out a sigh. "I don't think now is the appropriate time to tell you this,"

"No, tell me." Chanyeol insisted, turning Kyungsoo's face towards him. He wanted to know all about the man before him. Even the grittiest detail. There were so many things he was curious about. "I want to know more about you."

"We'd be passing the friend boundary then, Park." 

"Are we not already friends?" 

Kyungsoo looked up, wide eyed. Chanyeol guessed it was his own fault really, for being such a prick, but Kyungsoo turned out to be so much more than Chanyeol expected. Kyungsoo smiled, shyly. "Well, as a kid, I obviously wanted my parents' love. They used that knowledge for their own benefit, I guess."

The lilies stayed put on the ground in front of them both that night. Chanyeol's tears dried and Kyungsoo shed some of his own. The moon shone down at them, and Chanyeol reached for Kyungsoo's hand, holding it tightly through the night. The metal didn't offer much heat, but Chanyeol felt warm anyway. So warm, in fact, that he could feel it through his slumber, and the first thing he thought of when he woke up, was how much he wanted to hold it again.

 

 

 

Chanyeol stared at the blinking clock in the sky as he walked to work, distracted. Someone bumped into him, but Chanyeol didn't even mind, only nodding at the small apology. The sky was dim, clouds shrouding and collecting. He wondered if a downpour was on its way. 

"Chanyeol!" An arm looped around his shoulder. Silver and bronze glinted under the sunlight and Chanyeol turned, grin ready on his face. Kyungsoo smiled back, his lips forming a slightly distorted heart, but a heart nonetheless. Chanyeol could feel his heart again. Damn it. 

Minseok followed behind, and Chanyeol gave him a polite smile. They walked as three to work, and Chanyeol thought it would be awkward with Minseok there, but conversation flowed easily. Small snippets about the best coffee in town, the upcoming parade, the building they're working on. Chanyeol smiled at the jokes Minseok made in passing, and Minseok snickered at the jokes he made. Their eyes met even with Kyungsoo between them, and Chanyeol was relieved to find mutual understanding between them.

"Chanyeol? Reaching work with someone else?" Jongdae exclaimed as soon as they walked through the doors of the locker room. He winced, looking up to sheepishly smile at Jongdae, but met Baekhyun's glare instead. He gulped, nodding in an attempt of a greeting. 

"We're friends with brooders now?"

Minseok smirked, "I mean, we're friends with you." 

Baekhyun nudged him, before meeting Chanyeol eye to eye. Baekhyun has got to be tiptoeing but Chanyeol was too intimidated to even check. "I don't trust you, you know,"

Chanyeol cleared his throat, trying to not show as much of his fear. "I don't trust you either, so I guess we're even."

Baekhyun narrowed his eyes, about to retort but Kyungsoo cut him off, "Stop that Baekhyun. Leave him alone."

"This is the same guy who looked at you different because you're a cyborg you know."

"It was one time. Let it go."

Chanyeol sidestepped Baekhyun, guiltily facing Kyungsoo. "About that first day-"

"It's okay, I get it." Kyungsoo interrupted, shrugging as if it was no big deal. 

"I still need to apologise though," Chanyeol's fingers stutter over the hem of his tshirt, firmly holding onto the bravery amidst his anxiousness. "I'm sorry I treated you like that. Whatever excuse I had, it was no reason to look at you different or be mean to you."

"You treated everyone the same Chanyeol, I really wasn't that offended." Kyungsoo laughed, though he still squeezed Chanyeol's arm once in appreciation. "Does the apology come with free dinner later?"

Chanyeol grinned. Kyungsoo was okay. They were okay. "If it's free dinner you want, then free dinner you shall get."

 

 

 

 

Free dinner came with Jongdae, Minseok and Baekhyun as well. Chanyeol had hoped it would just be him and Kyungsoo alone, but Baekhyun's possessive arm around Kyungsoo's shoulder was telling enough that he had no choice in this. Kyungsoo still looked back at him with a small smile though, so all was still fine. 

Chanyeol wondered when he became so infatuated with Kyungsoo.

Jongdae and Minseok walked beside him, nudging each other when they realised how hard he was staring at Baekhyun's back. He swore he wasn't the jealous type but Baekhyun was really rubbing him the wrong way. Maybe it was revenge to how _he_ had treated Baekhyun those few years ago. 

"Don't hate Baekhyun, he's still not over how you rudely turned him down." Jongdae quipped, finally getting Chanyeol to tear his eyes away. "Well, it wasn't really turning him down, if you never even said anything right?"

"Right." Chanyeol tonelessly replied, "Does he really have to squeeze the life out of Kyungsoo like that?"

"Chanyeol cut it out, you're almost thirty," Jongdae rolled his eyes, "possessive traits are such a turn-off."

"You're right," Chanyeol mumbled, playing with the strap of his bag, "but does he really have to be that close to Kyungsoo?”

 

Jongdae sighed, shaking his head. "You're hopeless."

They reached the restaurant , which was totally not what Chanyeol planned but he had lost all will to complain. The restaurant had a charming homely feel, and Chanyeol sunk right into their plush seats. He wondered where the owner even found these chairs. They felt luxurious.

They ordered their food and waited. The table was silent for some reason, and Chanyeol shifted in his seat, catching Kyungsoo’s eye. The smile he received in return was comforting and he beamed back, happy to get Kyungsoo’s attention. Baekhyun swooped in at that moment, stealing that little time Kyungsoo gave Chanyeol for himself. The smug smirk Baekhyun gave him is definitely no coincidence.

The night went okay at best. Chanyeol was too busy sulking, although he was delighted to have Jongdae and Minseok’s company. It would be better without Baekhyun’s snide remarks though, jabbing at Chanyeol’s side and taking Kyungsoo’s eyes all for his own.

“I hate Baekhyun,” he commented childishly, making Jongdae laugh beside him. 

“Baekhyun's just as childish as you, he'll start getting used to you, don't worry.”

Even so, when they parted, Baekhyun convinced Kyungsoo to follow him home and Chanyeol felt the burn in his chest flare. It was jealousy, he knew. He also knew he had no right to be feeling envy, so he strained a smile and waved goodnight.

 

 

 

Sunday meant a day off. Chanyeol woke up with energy he didn't even know he had. Greeting Mrs Song, he sat by her at the reception's desk, doodling by the lines of the pages of his notebook. His shoe tapped lightly on the wooden floorboards, making an uncertain rhythm. 

The ceiling fan creaked with every spin, and the lights above him flickered on and off. Mrs Song tried to peek at what exactly Chanyeol was writing about but he playfully covered it. It wasn't anything much anyway. Not anything Mrs Song wasn't experiencing herself.

Around noon, Mrs Song left to grab some lunch for both Chanyeol and herself. Chanyeol took care of the desk for a while, nodding at some of the patrons who greeted him. He smiled back in courtesy. Halfway through, he realised he didn't know most of them. The only person he recognised was his neighbour, Sunyoung, but he didn't even know Sunyongthat well either.

A couple of minutes passed by. Ceiling fan still creaked above his head, and he jolted straight when a familiar face walked in. He stared at the man who was holding the hand of a toddler. "You live here?"

Minseok looked at the desk right at the first of the stairs. He grinned, standing beside Chanyeol. "Yeah, you never noticed? You really are in your own head a lot."

Chanyeol sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the toddler instead. "Your brother?" The kid cowered slightly till Chanyeol waved at him. Wide eyes met his, before a shy smile was thrown his way. A small form of acknowledgement.

"This is Mark, my younger sister's son." Minseok corrected. "I take care of him,"

"Your sister is with the government or something?" Chanyeol asked, continuing to vigorously wave at the kid and smiling at the toothy grin he received.

Minseok chuckled. "My sister is dead Chanyeol."

He looked up with wide eyes, stammering. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's okay," Minseok scratched his cheek. "It's not like we know each other well anyway."

Chanyeol looked at the floor, embarrassed. The only reason they don't know each other well was only because of him. Minseok laughed, "I'm not guilt-tripping you. It's just the truth." 

The silence after carried for a few seconds, before Minseok stepped away slightly. He expected Minseok to go up already and leave him, but instead, Minseok patted his head. "I don't know what you're afraid of Chanyeol, but I hope you can open up slightly. Enough so we can be friends. You are with Kyungsoo, what's one more old man?"

Chanyeol swallowed around the stone that suddenly lodged itself in his throat. He looked up at Minseok with tears brimming in his eyes, blinking it away as soon as he saw how Minseok's eyes softened upon seeing it. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, hyung."

 

 

 

“Do you ever think about what would happen if we weren't friends?” Sehun asked one Sunday night, in the middle of trees with a bonfire lit in front of them. Their marshmallows that were skewered on a stick was toasting, firewood crackling in mismatched unison. 

Chanyeol was staring at his marshmallow, but he heard Sehun. He had pondered about it too- if he hadn't been as lucky, if he hadn't drunk that beer, if he hadn't stood out on the balcony because even his extrovert self needed a break sometimes. “I would have died.”

Sehun bursted out laughing, almost falling off the foldable chair he was on. “Don't be dramatic.”

“I'm not,” Chanyeol said seriously. Sehun stopped laughing, eyes widening when he realised the weight behind Chanyeol’s words. “I mean, of course I won't die but I would have still been stuck at my dad’s company, I would still be working for them. And I don't...I don't think I'd be happy.”

The fire created a warm orange cast on Sehun’s face and Chanyeol felt his heart tighten at the way Sehun looked at him with such awe. Chanyeol was sure he looked at Sehun similarly so many times. He cleared his throat, placing the marshmallow on the graham crackers beside him, followed by a small piece of chocolate.

“I feel the same way.” Sehun whispered. The night air wrapped itself around them, hugging them close. Their hearts followed the beat of the reggae songs coming out of the radio, relaxed yet upbeat at the same time. Chanyeol _loved_ Sehun, a lot. Their friendship was everything Chanyeol had chased for since young. To finally have it in front of him made him feel surreal. 

“I mean it, you know.” Sehun mumbled as he made his own s'mores. “I don't think I'd be as happy now if I didn't meet you back at Seungwan’s party.”

Chanyeol passed Sehun another piece of graham cracker for the top of his s'mores, before smiling. “I think we'd have met again anyway.”

“How would you know?”

“My book _Soulmates_ was for you, you know,” Chanyeol replied, seeing Sehun’s face light up. “We're soulmates, and we'd have found each other even then. Maybe I'd have suffered a bit longer at the company. But even after...I'd meet you, and we'd still be friends. I'm sure of it.”

“You believe in fate a little too much sometimes,” Sehun murmured into his red cup, filled with root beer and vanilla ice cream. Chanyeol shrugged, staring into the fire. The bite of his s'mores sent an instant relief. S'mores was always good. “Fate brought me to you. It's hard to doubt it anymore.”

“Not everything last forever,” Sehun said, his voice lost into the night. Chanyeol stared in disgust as Sehun dipped his s'mores into his root beer. Sehun grinned as he bit into the biscuit. “But our friendship will?”

Chanyeol didn't know why Sehun posed it as a question but he nodded vigorously anyway, agreeing, accepting. “It'll stand the test of time. Just you see.”

“I believe you.” 

The fire crackled in the lull between the conversation, and Chanyeol let himself be cooed into it, staring into the orange embers. Sehun’s hand find his, and the touch lingered. In the moment, in his palm, in his mind.

 

 

 

 

The orphanage was silent except for the light sounds of someone singing. Chanyeol stepped in slowly, straining his ears to decipher whose voice he was hearing. It wasn't Jongdae, that much he knew. Jongdae’s voice was toned higher, and this person definitely had a deeper voice.

Chanyeol peered inside the common room, surprised to find Kyungsoo the one on the high stool, singing a jovial song with only claps to accompany. A girl- Chaeyeon- was clacking pencils on Kyungsoo’s metallic parts and the cyborg just smiled, encouraging the action further. 

It was heartwarming. He knew Kyungsoo was an amazing person, but to see him with kids only sent warmth straight to his chest. Chanyeol didn't think he had a thing for guys being good with children but maybe he did. 

Kyungsoo caught his eyes whilst singing, and with a subtle nod, urged Chanyeol to come in the room. To join him. Chanyeol didn't intend to but his feet followed whatever Kyungsoo wanted and he found himself standing right next to Kyungsoo, arms meekly tucked behind him. 

The song ended and the kids dispersed after a while. Kyungsoo regarded Chanyeol, giving him that smile that easily coaxed one right out of Chanyeol as well. He was weak for Kyungsoo. That much was clear.

“Since you're here, want to write up that storybook with me?” Chanyeol asked, holding up the notebook he had brought along. They sat at the garden outside, Kyungsoo messing with some shrubberies before finally placing himself on the stone steps. 

They didn't end up writing, although Chanyeol knew they should. He could spy Kyungsoo scribbling some things though, but that was about all the writing they did. Well, Kyungsoo did. Chanyeol didn't even lift his pencil.

“These kids are amazing,” Chanyeol said, staring at Jaehyun and Chenle painting the walls of the house. Their clothes were dirty but none of them seemed to mind. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo agreed. “Jaehyun was the one with the idea to paint the front with sunflowers despite never seeing it in real life before.”

“He's going to do so much for the people around him,” Chanyeol murmured. There was always admiration whenever he saw the kids. They were so positive, even in the worst situation possible. The house wasn't the most spacious, and there were definitely too many kids in a single house at one time. No one wanted to adopt when everyone was still trying to get their lives back together. These kids had their fates doomed from the start. 

“They have each other,” Kyungsoo inputted. Chanyeol didn't even realise he had been thinking out loud. “They don't need any external help anyway. Only the few caretakers and each other.”

The sun casted on both Jaehyun and Chenle. Chanyeol was happy to see they were still laughing with each other. He was happy to see the kids could still get their spirits lifted. “I have so much to learn from them.”

“So learn, I'll write,” Kyungsoo said, raising a brow at Chanyeol’s questioning glance. “What? Education is a forever thing you know.”

Chanyeol shook his head, snickering as he walked to the duo, picking up an unused brush. Their faces lit up at the new helper, and Jaehyun eagerly explained that they wanted to attempt peach and teal stripes. Chanyeol didn't know how they were going to execute it, but he painted anyway.

 

 

 

That night, Chanyeol told the story of Beauty and The Beast, but he found that he wanted to tell the kids’ stories more than he did a lonesome girl who fell in love with a cursed prince. He wanted to tell the kids that this love between themselves should be admired. The unity, the lack of complaints even when they were deprived of so many things- Chanyeol wanted to tell everyone about it. Familiar want buzzed in his fingertips, his mind pulsing at the urge to _write_. Chanyeol felt breathless. He hadn't had this yearning in so long. 

Chanyeol grinned as he ended the story, happy to see the shining faces of the kids as they filed to bed. Doyoung lingered, telling him he did a great job again. Chanyeol wanted to hug the kid. 

He pulled the notebook from the table beside him, flipping to a fresh page. He stopped short at the scribbles Kyungsoo made, reading over the lines about a boy who had his normal arms replaced with metal junk. He had felt miserable at first but slowly felt stronger than ever. Not only physically, but mentally as well.

 _Kyungsoo_. 

Chanyeol stayed back at the orphanage, reading Kyungsoo’s story over and over. It was perfect. In every sense of the word.

“Burning the midnight oil?” Chanyeol looked up from the book to find Seulgi by the door. He hadn't seen her or at least chatted with her more than a mere greeting in ages. She had been so busy lately, so Chanyeol closed the book, welcoming her with a hug. “That's your story?”

“About that- I gave the chance to Kyungsoo instead?”

“Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah, he's got the perfect story. I can always write another time,” Chanyeol replied sheepishly. Seulgi ran her fingers through his hair. It used to calm him a lot. Whenever he had writers’ block, she would come to his and Sehun’s shared apartment with takeout and an animated movie. They would watch a lot of movies in one sitting, her hands in his hair the whole way. 

“I don't mind, but I offered it to you in hopes that you'd find your muse again.”

“Kyungsoo had always wanted to become a writer. It just felt right to give him a chance,” Chanyeol said quietly. He met Seulgi’s eyes. “And don't worry about my muse. I think I kinda found it.”

“‘Kinda?’”

“Kinda.” Chanyeol confirmed, giving Seulgi a grin. “It'll come back soon, I’m sure.”

Seulgi sighed, but she had a fond smile on her face. “I hope it will, Chanyeol.”

 

 

 

Chocolate was a rare item. It was a known fact that chocolate was very scarce everywhere, so when Chanyeol saw Baekhyun hold it in his hands on the day of Kyungsoo’s birthday, he couldn’t help but gape. “Where did you even get that?”

“Why are you talking to me?” Baekhyun replied instead, raising a brow. Minseok nudged him at the side when he saw the wounded look that was probably on Chanyeol’s face. Baekhyun cleared his throat. “I have my sources. Nothing but the best for Kyungsoo, right?”

Chanyeol knew Baekhyun clearly was looking at the notebook in Chanyeol’s hand that was wrapped in some ribbon he found. In his defense, notebooks were awfully hard to find these days, so he knew Kyungsoo would appreciate the present. He still felt like his present paled in comparison to Baekhyun’s though. Jongdae ruffled his hair, looking at him knowingly. “It’s not about the price of your present.”

“I guess notebooks are pretty rare too,” Baekhyun hummed, rolling his eyes when Minseok jabbed him at the side again. 

The day was 12th January. White clouds bloomed in the sky, the sun greeting the ground brightly. Chanyeol was glad it was a good day. He didn’t want Kyungsoo to have to spend the day amongst dreary rain. They were all gathered in Jongdae’s apartment, sat around the small table in the centre of his living room.

Kyungsoo should reach there anytime soon, and Chanyeol gripped his notebook tighter. He hoped Kyungsoo wasn’t as amazed by Baekhyun’s present and be disappointed by his. 

When Kyungsoo came, Jongdae and Baekhyun screamed the birthday song as loud as they possibly could while Minseok clapped along by the sidelines. If Chanyeol had been more comfortable with Baekhyun, he would have joined him, but alas he was in the Minseok team for now. 

Kyungsoo seemed amused by how loud the two were being, smiling before bowing in gratitude. His eyes met Chanyeol’s when he rose. “I’m glad you could come.”

Chanyeol shifted his eyes, seeing Baekhyun’s glare mostly. “Yeah, of course I did. Wouldn’t want to miss your birthday.”

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo said. Chanyeol thought he could probably tell a lot from the smile Kyungsoo was giving him, but Baekhyun distracted Kyungsoo, pulling him to the table beside him. They had whipped up a decent dinner between them; some scrambled eggs, potato cakes and chicken sandwiches. Kyungsoo took it all in, grin widening if possible. “This is amazing. I haven’t had chicken in ages.”

“Bon appetit?” Baekhyun quipped, and Kyungsoo grabbed a piece of chicken sandwich, taking a huge bite. That was indication enough for the rest, and they dug in with fervour. Truthfully, all of them hadn’t had chicken ever since the apocalypse. Baekhyun was probably the only one who have had it. Chanyeol wondered who exactly his “sources” were.

When the time came for them to present Kyungsoo with their gifts, he watched anxiously as Jongdae gave Kyungsoo a book of musical sheets, Minseok a new pair of sunglasses for work and Baekhyun the chocolate. Chanyeol shyly went to sit beside Kyungsoo, placing his present on the table. “It’s one of the notebooks I collected in the past five years. You can have one. Sorry it isn’t as fancy, but you can still write in it-”

Chanyeol couldn’t finish whatever he was saying, Kyungsoo cutting him off with a hug and smothering his next words. 

Fuck. Chanyeol hoped Kyungsoo couldn’t tell how hard his heart was beating at the moment. It sucked that even the littlest interaction could make his heart go crazy these days. Sometimes, it was more muted though, like right then, when Kyungsoo pulled back to smile at Chanyeol. His smile was divine, and Chanyeol could honestly stare at it forever. 

At times like these, Chanyeol’s heart would beat more mellow, but the rush of happiness and adoration that would run through every part of his body was immeasurable. Chanyeol liked Kyungsoo. _A lot_. 

“Happy Birthday Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol breathed, flushed cheeks burning redder when Kyungsoo only hugged him again in response. Chanyeol knew the others were staring at them, but it felt like it was just them both at the moment. Chanyeol embraced the seconds while it lasted.

 

 

 

Baekhyun was a lot of things in Chanyeol’s book. Obnoxious, loud, and clearly held a grudge. What Chanyeol didn't expect was him to be the son of the first cyborg ever made. 

The water wasn't working in Chanyeol’s apartment, so he had to walk to the local bathhouse. Most tenants decided to skip showering, but Chanyeol needed the extra splash of water to wake him up. 

No one ever used the bathhouse anymore. Except, well, Baekhyun again. 

Chanyeol’s eyes widened when his sight landed on the mess of metal and skin. She had half her face still made of human flesh, but the other half was a slate of dark metal. Her arms were rusty, legs flesh with patches of copper and no feet. Baekhyun was in front of her immediately, protectively covering her from Chanyeol.

“What are _you_ looking at?” Baekhyun was just scrubbing the metal on her back, so Chanyeol was slightly taken aback. “If you want to shower, just go and do that.”

Chanyeol blinked, ducking his head to where the shower heads lined. His eyes kept straying no matter how he tried to keep it on the stained white walls. He had never seen this side of Baekhyun before. Baekhyun was talking to his mother with such a sweet voice, playing with her as if she could respond. 

Everyone knew of the first tested cyborg. She had ended up paralysed. Chanyeol never thought he would actually see her in front of him. 

He got done showering, quickly putting some clothes on. Before work, he sat in the locker room,waiting for Baekhyun. The man came after a while, averting Chanyeol’s eyes. When Chanyeol approached him, he held up his hand, still not looking at him. “If you're going to gloat, I’d rather not listen to it.”

Chanyeol blanched. “Why would I gloat?”

“It wouldn't be the first time,” Baekhyun muttered, trying for nonchalance. Chanyeol realised that it was just a front though. Beneath all that was just another boy who had lost something dear to him too. Worse, he still had to face his loss every day.

“I'm sorry some people are inconsiderate pricks but I just wanted to say how admirable you were this morning,” Chanyeol said, feeling the tips of his ears turning red. “I'm...sorry that happened to her though.”

“It's okay,” Baekhyun shrugged. “Seeing all the successful cyborgs now makes me feel better about it. Makes her really proud too.”

“She should be.” Chanyeol smiled, surprised to see Baekhyun doing the same. “She's basically a modern hero.”

Chanyeol tugged at the boots that were getting too small for his feet. Baekhyun was watching him, he knew, but neither made any attempt of continuing the topic. It gave Chanyeol time to ponder. Everyone has had something taken from them, whether by the apocalypse or whatever happened after. 

Human spirit was a funny thing. It could fall so low, yet stand back up just as quickly. Some took time, of course. Each person was different after all. It made him think of Sehun, of himself. 

He needed to catch up.

 

 

 

The clock chimed louder in the afternoon. Maybe it didn't actually. Maybe Chanyeol was just hallucinating- but he always heard the clock at four. It was an odd hour to chime, set when they first wanted to test the clock, and it just stayed till now. No one bothered to fix it. 

Kyungsoo’s hand was loosely wrapped around his wrist. They were heading to the town hall. Jongdae had a gig there, and Minseok, along with the both of them had come to support him. The place was decently crowded. Not many wanted to leave the comfort of home, but there was still a lot who needed the distraction. 

Entertainment was always effective. 

The town hall’s steps had been changed into a makeshift stage, and a few stray instruments laid in disarray. Chanyeol never went to these gigs. He didn't think he did much at all. Always mourning, always alone. Baekhyun was right, he really was the brooding one.

Jongdae waved happily from the steps when he saw them. The crowd prevented them from meeting in the middle, so Chanyeol stayed at the sides with Kyungsoo and Minseok, awaiting with anticipation. 

The concert began once four thirty hit, Jongdae on the mic and immediately starting with a rock number. Chanyeol forgot how concerts were. He forgot how he was supposed to move, how loud it was, how suffocatingly exhilarating everything was. 

It had always been easy for him to adapt to a concert crowd, and even if he didn't know what Jongdae was singing, he found himself humming along, arms waving, following the tempo and beat. Jongdae shone on stage, sweat collecting under his brows. There was no special spotlight, just the dingy ceiling lights from the town hall building, but Jongdae still managed to grasp everyone's attention.

"He was born for this," Minseok said during an intersection. His eyes glimmered with pride. Chanyeol distantly remembered how they had been friends even before the apocalypse. Childhood friends, in fact. "It had always been his dream, you know?"

Chanyeol looked at where Jongdae stood, wiping his face with a towel his bandmate passed. He waved at everyone he made eye contact with, Chanyeol included. Jongdae belonged on stage. It was amazing to watch him interact with it.

"He's incredible," Chanyeol breathed. The next set began with a clack of drumsticks, and Chanyeol jumped with the crowd, letting his mind ran free. Empty and weightless. That was all he wanted to feel. 

Kyungsoo wrapped his arm around Chanyeol's waist, following the moves Chanyeol made with a happy grin. There it was again. Even in the middle of a crowd, even with a stage charmer, even with loud music in both Chanyeol's ears, Kyungsoo still managed to make his heart pump louder. 

Chanyeol grinned in response, tightening his hold around Kyungsoo's waist as well.

The concert ended right at eight, and the trio waited at the side for Jongdae, ready to congratulate him for the job well done. Jongdae left his bandmates before long, ready with an excited grin. "How was it?"

" _Amazing_." Chanyeol commented, eyes still wide and face still sweaty. "You are amazing Jongdae. I can't believe you hit that high note."

Jongdae laughed, shaking his head. "Thanks Chanyeol, and you two too for coming. So...dinner? My treat?"

"You know 'my treat' is like a void thing now since we all get a fair share of food?" Kyungsoo questioned, an amused smirk on his face. God, did that smirk look good on Kyungsoo. 

"Let me live Kyungsoo." Jongdae rolled his eyes, smiling still. Jongdae's dinner suggestion may have been innocent and even a passing remark, but Chanyeol kind of liked it. It gave a sense that maybe not much had changed.

Or well, the world had changed, but not so much the people.

It was a comforting thought.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo's silver arm glinted under the moonlight. He purposely swayed it further than it should go, taking joy at the way it reflected the light. Minseok had fallen asleep at Jongdae's apartment after their dinner of steamed egg and fried rice, so it was only him and Kyungsoo.

They walked past rows of apartments, talking about their past hobbies. One that cropped up mainly was Kyungsoo's love for gardening. The cyborg even owned a greenhouse back in the day, a place that was all to himself.

"I had a large collection of succulents, all in different colours. They were really easy to take care of," Kyungsoo rattled on and on. Chanyeol was listening- he really was- but sometimes he found himself enraptured by something else entirely. Like when Kyungsoo talked about a small caterpillar scaring the living daylights out of his parents, his smile would widen. His cheeks would pop then, all flushed and pretty. Chanyeol would zone out from the words then, focusing instead on how beautiful Kyungsoo looked. 

There it was again. The light thuds of his heart. It came as easily as it went, but it has happened so many times for Chanyeol to pass it off as something coincidental. He liked Kyungsoo. He knew as much.

"I'm sorry, am I boring you?" 

Chanyeol refocused, alarm at Kyungsoo's sad face making him immediately refocus. " _No!_ You would never." Chanyeol kicked a rock on the pavement, sending it skipping across. "I was just...thinking."

"Want to go to the mound?" Kyungsoo asked, and Chanyeol hadn't the heart to decline.

Cosmos and lilies rested against each other, meeting the carnations that laid against the earth. Kyungsoo's mini garden really wasn't supposed to look pretty, but somehow it still did. Chanyeol didn't know how. 

"It's sad how people don't have funerals anymore," Kyungsoo voiced, lightly grazing the leaf of a flower. His eyes were downcast, lips downturned. Chanyeol felt his throat dry. "If someone dies, you're evaluated. Are you worthy to be a cyborg? If not, you're just thrown into a decomposing pile. No flowers, no epitaphs- I think that's the worst part of the apocalypse."

"Did you... did you lose someone like that?"

Kyungsoo smiled with no joy. "No, it's just something I always think about,”

He sat on the ground, staring at the mound with something between disdain and pain. "My arms are in there somewhere. It's a horrible thought.”

Chanyeol hesitated, hands wavering just above Kyungsoo's. The cyborg had always been there in his silent ways when he was sad about Sehun. He wished he could forget about his feelings for once and just comfort Kyungsoo. That was way more important. 

His hands slowly found it's way above Kyungsoo's own, creeping into his metallic palm. The grateful smile Kyungsoo gave him was enough to calm him down, his sigh of relief loud against the dead of the night. He didn't have the words to comfort Kyungsoo, but he hoped his presence was enough. 

“You know what's funny?” Kyungsoo asked bitterly, brows furrowing as he stared at the mound. “I didn't even lose my arm after my injuries during the apocalypse.”

Kyungsoo tried to breathe through his nose and stop the tears, but it fell anyway. Chanyeol patted him on the back, bringing Kyungsoo into his arms. He was being straddled, and Kyungsoo looked so confused, but Chanyeol pulled his head into his shoulder. "Don't keep it in, Kyungsoo."

The pats on Kyungsoo's back coaxed the tears even more. He could tell the cyborg was hesitant at first, but slowly, the body-wracking began, tears coming out in loud sobs. Chanyeol sighed into the sky, hugging Kyungsoo tighter. He didn't know what had made Kyungsoo this pained, but he knew it had to be done. It was healthier for Kyungsoo himself to cry it out.

 

“I lost them after I tried to… I tried to-” Kyungsoo couldn't say it out loud, but Chanyeol’s eyes widened, realising immediately what the other was talking about. “It was so dumb of me, but I was like you once. Probably even worse.”

Kyungsoo wrapped himself tighter around Chanyeol, his sobs pitching higher at times, then quieter at most. Chanyeol knew he was still holding himself back a little. As much as Chanyeol wished Kyungsoo could feel comfortable to show his vulnerable side to him, it wasn't realistic. They still had steps to get up that level of friendship. What they have now was enough, but Chanyeol couldn't wait for what was to come.

He liked being friends with Kyungsoo. He really, really did. Chanyeol really hoped he could soften the hurt in Kyungsoo at the moment, maybe not drastically, but even the slightest relief would be enough.

The moon didn't cast a glow upon anything that night. It shone as monotonously as it always had. Chanyeol thought about who was beneath the mound besides Sehun. Thousands of losses and not just his or Kyungsoo's, but at least everyone else in town. 

Chanyeol's arms tightened around Kyungsoo.

 

 

 

A few weeks passed, Chanyeol got closer with Minseok and Jongdae. Baekhyun was a little harder to crack, but Chanyeol didn't worry much about him. Kyungsoo, of course, had been a constant in his life. They went to the orphanage together, get back from work together, even went to the mound together. They garden in the night, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Kyungsoo was the best addition to Chanyeol's life.

In meeting new people, Chanyeol almost forgot the old ones. He cooked dinner, carefully seasoning everything as best as he could. Chanyeol could cook, but he's not as good as Mrs Song. He hoped she would still like it though.

Chanyeol went to her apartment, knocking on the door. Mrs Song was surprised to see him, but the shock quickly dissolved into a happy grin. "Long time no see."

Their table was filled with delight, catching up on their lives. Mr Tan was up to his antics again, trying to hang his laundry on the roof signal. Chanyeol didn't think he missed dinners with Mrs Song this much, but he definitely did. 

"I'm sorry I haven't been around much."

Mrs Song shook her head at the rice bowl. Her smile was small but genuine. "Don't be sorry. You seem happier these days, and I am so glad to see you like this, Chanyeol. You look better, your laugh rings truer."

Chanyeol smiled, sipping at his drink. "I hope you've been keeping yourself entertained without me,"

"Oh, seeing how infatuated you look around that Kyungsoo boy have entertained me enough," Mrs Song joked, smirking at how red Chanyeol's face immediately turned. He tried to lie, opening his mouth for a retort, but Mrs song dismissed it. "Don't try to deny it, the way you look at him is telling enough."

"Mrs Song," Chanyeol whined, and she gratefully dropped the subject. Their dinner continued in silent laughters and lifting stories. Chanyeol went back to his room, heart lighter than it has been for a long time.

 

 

 

The rain poured harsh. Neon lights flickered outside the old bar, and Sehun and Chanyeol were stuck outside. The bar had just closed five minutes ago, and they were buzzed. Possibly a little drunk.

Their legs swayed, jeans and clothes wet as they walked through the rain with not a care for the world. Getting ill tomorrow was a possibility, but as they ran through the wet pathways and getting even wetter as they stepped into puddles, Chanyeol found that was the least of his worries. In fact, he didn't think he had a worry at all. 

Their laughs echoed, bouncing off brick walls and hitting cement floors. The shared apartment was just within sight when Sehun tripped. Chanyeol stopped. At any other time, he would be worried but his drunken state only made everything at least ten times more amusing. He laughed, louder than they had already been. 

It was the good kind of laugh, one that made him throw his head back, further punctuated when Sehun tried to stand and fell back on his butt again. The rain still fell, even harder than before in fact. Chanyeol finally sobered up enough to step forward and help, but his shoes weren't the most durable against slick surfaces. He too fell on the pavement, blinking his eyes, slightly dazed. 

This time, Sehun's laugh filled the air and Chanyeol joined in after a while. They were just two very buzzed kids with alcohol in their system. They were wet, they were laughing, and they were probably going to be sick the next day.

Chanyeol found he didn't care. 

 

 

 

Nights were filled with Jongdae, Minseok, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo now. Chanyeol never thought he would ever feel pleasant around other people, but yet there he was feeling _happy_. Happier than he had felt in such a long time. It was a new feeling. One that Chanyeol liked. A lot.

In clear nights, they would scour the streets, simply walking and hanging out, or sometimes watching Minseok do parkour with the rest attempting to follow. The rest of them weren’t very flexible or strong, although Kyungsoo wasn’t so bad. 

“That’s cause he has all that metal,” Jongdae said in jest, and Chanyeol followed with, “A man of steel, indeed.”

That simple comment somehow led to a further discussion about how Superman wasn’t that much of a Superhero and how Captain America or Spiderman was way better. Chanyeol had his own opinions about Deadpool, but chose not to voice them. He deemed staying quiet was safer in this situation where Minseok and Jongdae was just staring intensely at each other, waiting for the other to back down. 

Baekhyun still doesn’t talk to Chanyeol much, sometimes acting like Chanyeol didn’t exist at all, but Chanyeol doesn’t mind. Not when Kyungsoo always held his hand, squeezing it to show him comfort. Kyungsoo was...amazing. He was always there to comfort Chanyeol somehow, with his secret smiles and comforting gestures. Chanyeol knew he liked Kyungsoo a little too much sometimes (most times) and as much as he would like things to remain platonic, he knew somewhere deep inside him, it yearns for Kyungsoo’s touch to wander below his shirt, around his neck or his thighs.

Chanyeol’s thoughts stopped there. He was surprised he even felt that way so quickly. 

They were walking aimlessly again, Chanyeol observed when they passed the same abandoned post office for the third time in a row. Minseok and Baekhyun were bickering- this time about Captain America and Ironman. Jongdae had lost the last fight it seemed, deciding to linger behind them and watch on. 

There were the little things Kyungsoo did when they were with their friends that made Chanyeol think more and more about how beautifully dipped Kyungsoo’s cupid’s bow was and how soft his lips would feel. He would touch the small of Chanyeol’s back, his palm lingering there for far longer than they should. Sometimes, Kyungsoo would play with Chanyeol’s fingers, his bronzed tips glinting under the light. They contrasted greatly with Chanyeol's skin and Chanyeol liked that. A lot.

Most times, like today, it was just simply resting his head against Chanyeol’s arm. There was always a hum low in the edge of Kyungsoo’s throat. Music would travel easily between them. They both found out they shared the same interest of music a long time ago and would often end up ending each other’s songs. 

It was like that again, this time with Nothing But Thieves’ Graveyard Whistling. Their hums were steady, only losing breath slightly towards the end. 

Jongdae must have heard them humming because he started singing, the others immediately joining in, exaggeratedly loud in volume. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo tried to hush them but they had turned a deaf ear, singing the song loudly into the night sky, drowning the clock in the sky’s chimes. 

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol shrugged at each other. They say if you can't change them, join them. So they too started singing at the top of their lungs, the night sky a witness.

 

 

 

_No one's getting younger_  
Would you like a souvenir?  
Let it take you under  
Feel your worries disappear 

_'Cos if you don't believe, it can't hurt you_  
And when you let it leave, it can't hurt you  
'Cos if you don't believe, then you know, then you know  
It can never do you harm  
'Cos if you don't believe, it can't hurt you 

 

 

 

5th April, 12:11 P.M. Chanyeol stared at the clock on his walk to the orphanage. The date was nearing Sehun’s birthday, and Chanyeol sighed. It was time again. He wondered how he will celebrate it this time around. With the others? Or alone again? Would the others think he was stupid for celebrating a dead person’s birthday. 

Chanyeol saw new sunflowers on the expanse of the orphanage. They must have painted new ones. He decided to push all thoughts of Sehun aside for now.

The cement floor wasn't comfortable, but somehow Chanyeol found himself at peace lying there, staring at Kyungsoo’s face. The cyborg was writing, face focused on the paper in front of him. His eyebrows were scrunched, corners of his lips downturned. He had cancelled and rewrote at least a dozen times. 

Kyungsoo’s hair was getting too long, falling into his eyes. He had to blow it away a couple of times, still looking at his paper even then. His hair was so soft, dark brown locks messily strayed everywhere. Chanyeol patted Kyungsoo’s hair back without giving it much thought, his fingers running through it. Kyungsoo paused, gazing up, making Chanyeol stop whatever he was doing. He gulped, not moving his hand, just to test how much of his boundary could Chanyeol pass.

Kyungsoo didn't say anything, only flushed slightly before going back to his writing. He peered over Kyungsoo’s shoulder, looking at what exactly was being written. There was something about a boy with no arm, and one with no heart. Chanyeol couldn't see further, Doyoung coming right at that time with his paper towels and crayons in hand. 

“Uncle! Look at what I did!” Chanyeol took the passed paper towels, smiling when he saw a drawing of a monkey wearing pants and a top hat. He leafed through the paper towels, reading about Mr Monkey’s adventures, smile only widening at each page. 

“This is brilliant, Doyoung,” Chanyeol breathed, noting how his words immediately made the boy perk up, nervous smile blowing out into a full grin. It was amazing. His impact by saying such a simple thing. He didn't think he still had that effect anymore. “What happens after Mr Monkey defeated Dr.Dragon?”

Doyoung fidgeted in his stance, “He fell in love with the princess and Mr. Monkey too, and they all lived happily ever after.”

“Wait, what?” Chanyeol sputtered. Kyungsoo finally peeked at Doyoung, amusement clear on his face. 

“Yeah, it's just like Uncle Junmyeon, Auntie Seulgi and Auntie Joohyun,” Doyoung explained, nervousness heightening if the tense shoulders weren't indication enough. Chanyeol relaxed his face, still offering Doyoung assurance. “That's very creative Doyoung.”

“Thanks, Uncle,” Doyoung had a pink blush on his face as he stalked off. 

“Aren't you a charmer?” Kyungsoo mused once Doyoung was gone, smirk lifting the side of his mouth. Chanyeol may be deemed the charmer but he thought Kyungsoo’s face was definitely the more charming one. 

“I'm a very suave man,” Chanyeol said, snickering at Kyungsoo’s scrunched up face.

“If you're suave, then I'm the most handsome man on the planet.”

“You are though,” Chanyeol blurted, unable to filter his mouth. What was new, really? He could feel heat creep up his neck, trying his best to continue looking at Kyungsoo and still pertain nonchalance. The cyborg’s eyes were wide, dumbfounded. Was that a blush on his cheeks? Chanyeol couldn't be sure.

“There’s that charmer thing again,” Kyungsoo mumbled, his cheeks definitely a harsh shade of pink.

“Not being charming, just stating the truth,” Chanyeol replied. He was on a roll with the lack of brain-to-mouth filter, blurting whatever had been passing his mind for ages. “You _are_ really handsome, you know?”

Kyungsoo’s red cheeks weren't dying down soon, it seemed. It gave Chanyeol hope, for some reason. “Thank you.”

Chanyeol liked the red on Kyungsoo’s cheeks, liked how Kyungsoo bit his lips when he was flustered, liked how he was shyly meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. God, how could one person be this crazy gorgeous? 

“You're welcome,” Chanyeol said, although he thought maybe he should be the one thanking Kyungsoo when he gave him a smile, paired with flushed cheeks and shy fingers lingering on Chanyeol’s thighs. 

 

 

 

The sun mellowed around these parts of town. Maybe it was the trees, or the spirituality of the place- Chanyeol never knew. Birds chirped, unseen in the foliage. Mrs Song led the way again, hands gripped tightly around coins to pay the child selling the lantern again. 

Chanyeol placed his lantern gently in the water, lighting it with a flame, watching it float away, slowly disappearing. Mrs Song was gone too, following his own lantern. Would Sehun think he was dumb for even doing this lantern business? They weren't even religious before the apocalypse, and he wasn't religious now but...doing these things definitely gave him something to latch his emotions on. It was a simple way for him to run away from his internal problems, he knew, but it was so easy to forget and pray that some other entity was in charge of himself.

That way he didn't have to blame himself for most things. In turn, it gave him the expectation that praying could somehow change him.

It was an escape, simply put.

"Here," Mrs Song passed him a thermos, and Chanyeol drank it, not thinking twice. It was mint tea, something he had not drank in a long time. Chanyeol closed his eyes, slowly sipping the tea. The forest was never silent, not really. Always a bird, a bug, the river against rocks. It was as distracting as the God was.

It wasn't the best way out, but Chanyeol will figure it out, one day.

 

 

 

Through the stalks of sunflowers painted, Chanyeol found there was something more beautiful in the naturally lit rooms of the orphanage. It was in Jongdae's singing, voice lilting sweetly. Mid-afternoon, some random R&B song, and a piece of bread in his hand. 

It was in the kids laying their heads against their hands, against other's shoulders, against Chanyeol's lap. Everything was so sublime. A quiet beauty that one would never realise, not until they really take a step back to see things in landscape. 

The song ended, Jongdae's voice slowly fading away just like the kid's conciousness. Doyoung and his sister were in Chanyeol's lap, so he picked them up carefully to lay them down in their mattresses. He kept going back and forth, helping Seulgi and the others tuck the kids in bed. 

When he was done, he found Jongdae in the kitchen, drinking water while mindlessly strumming his ukulele. Chanyeol sat in front of him, staring into Jongdae's face thoughtfully. "What's your favourite song?"

Jongdae glanced at him, surprise flitting his eyes minutely. Jongdae fell into a deep thought, and Chanyeol let him, taking a drink for himself while he waited. 

"Oh, I have one," Jongdae finally said, drumming his fingers on the wood. "It was the song I always listened to when I failed an audition." 

Chanyeol leaned back on his chair, waiting eagerly. Jongdae laughed deprecatingly. "It's the song I find myself humming now when I miss my wife. It's 'I Want You Back' by Yuna."

"You have a _wife_?" Chanyeol cried out in shock.

Jongdae chuckled, scratching the back of his head. " _Had_. She died in the apocalypse."

"Oh." Chanyeol tucked his hands under his thigh, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Jongdae waved it away, "Everyone loses something in the apocalypse. It's life. You lose some things, but you gain a few others. I lost my chance to be a singer, I have these gigs now, performing for everyone. I lost my wife..."

Jongdae's voice cracked slightly, but he still kept the smile on his face, still genuine in his sadness. Chanyeol didn't know he does it. Jongdae let out a breath, "Even if I lost my wife, I gained new friends. It's enough company to last me a lifetime."

Chanyeol took Jongdae's ukulele, strumming it and fixing the pitch. He was familiar with Yuna songs, and the one Jongdae mentioned happened to be one of his favourites. " _I'm still up, it's 4 a.m., I don't know what to make of today,_ "

Jongdae grinned, continuing the song, taking complete control of the song while Chanyeol just strummed happily at the side. Even through the apocalypse, Jongdae's voice was still intact, still beautiful in its nature. Minseok lost his younger sister and had to take care of Mark, yet he saw Mark less of a trouble and more of a blessing. 

And Kyungsoo lost his parents, his own arms, but he still wants to work to his old dreams, still alive even amongst the dampening of the apocalypse.

There were so many things to despair about after the end of the world, but it has been five years. Maybe it was just time to move on and rebuild the old Chanyeol.

 

 

 

_Once upon a time, there lived a boy with doubts clouded in his mind. A boy with no arms, no future, no hope. He brought metal to life, joints replaced by screws, and pale skin replaced by silver and bronze._

_On the other side lived another boy who had lost his heart in debris. It was buried deep inside the ground. When the boy with the metal arms- the cyborg- met him, he knew he had to help him. The cyborg tried, digging up the Earth to find the boy’s heart._

_The boy didn't want the help. He told the cyborg with a purse in his lips. “It's just a waste of time.”_

_The cyborg never gave up. He dug and dug, never stopping even when the boy tried to pull him away from the Earth. He crouched over the ground even through rain and harsh winds._

_Till one day, the cyborg stopped. His arm’s screw had loosened in midst of digging. The work had been too much for his metal arms. They were weak. Without his arms, the cyborg had no way to find the boy’s heart for him anymore._

_But the very next day, when the cyborg came to the ground, he found the boy digging. He approached the boy carefully, his voice wary, “What are you doing?”_

_The boy didn't look up, but the cyborg could see the sneaks of a smile. “Finding for my heart,”_

“The end?” Chanyeol finished, reading over the lines again. “Shouldn't there be a more conclusive ending?”

“I can't-” Kyungsoo roughly pulled his hair, messing the locks. “I can't think of an ending,”

“Hey, it's alright. There's no pressure for you to finish this at the set deadline. And you don't have to worry, what you have so far is wonderful.” Chanyeol stepped nearer, sitting beside Kyungsoo and carding his fingers through Kyungsoo's hair. He could feel Kyungsoo relax beside him, resting his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder. It was endearing, how cute Kyungsoo looked with his messy hair and pout of frustration. “You know you can stop if it gets too much, right?”

“I do know,” Kyungsoo murmured against his arm. Chanyeol could feel his breath- it was distracting. “But I don't want to disappoint you.”

Chanyeol shifted away at that, holding Kyungsoo’s face in between his palms. “Listen to me Kyungsoo, it doesn't matter what I think, nor what everyone else thinks. I'm proud that you've even gotten this far. You're already doing so great, why would I not be proud?”

“You're just saying that.” 

Chanyeol neared Kyungsoo’s face, staring right into his eyes. Kyungsoo’s breath hitched at the sudden close proximity, both of them unable to tear their eyes away. Whatever Chanyeol wanted to say originally disappeared from his mind. All he could think of was how beautiful Kyungsoo looked this close. How much fuller his lips look, how the flush in his cheeks really complemented his skintone, how his eyes were more captivating this close. Chanyeol really wanted to kiss Kyungsoo. 

“Chanyeol?”

Kyungsoo’s voice stirred Chanyeol’s realisation, and he swallowed his urge away, pulling back. “You're amazing, Kyungsoo. I don't care what you say.”

“You give me too much credit, seriously,” Kyungsoo muttered, tucking his hair behind his ear. A nervous habit, Chanyeol learned. “But I'll try again with the ending.”

“And you won't pressure yourself this time?”

“I won't,” Kyungsoo promised, smile easy and fond. “I promise.”

 

 

 

The clock was stuck at 12:11. Chanyeol waited for his call to get through. Sehun was currently in China for more of his photography escapades and the date was 12th April. His birthday. 

“Hello?” The grainy nasally voice finally responded, and Chanyeol immediately belted out the birthday song. He didn't care that the neighbours could hear him in the quiet night. Chanyeol was making up for his absence with noise, and Sehun seemed to appreciate it, his laugh light. 

“You know you're eleven minutes late, right?”

“Really now, Sehun?”

“I mean, it's true,” Sehun replied and Chanyeol could imagine his pout. “Yixing wished me before you did,”

“Of course Yixing did.” Chanyeol harrumphed. Zhang Yixing was Sehun’s fling- boyfriend?- while he was in China. Sehun had a lot of flings from all over the world but this Yixing guy just gave Chanyeol the vibes. Vibes that it may seem like a fling is not all they seem. 

“Yeah, he took your place this time round. Sorry,”

“I can't believe someone beat me to it first.” Chanyeol continued, staring at the slice of cake on his floral patterned plate. He swiped at the cream, licking it off his fingers. “Weird. Why aren't you as angry about me being late as you should be.”

“What do you mean?” Sehun asked, but they both knew what Chanyeol meant. They have been friends for ages. That was why Chanyeol could hear the low murmurs of another voice. ‘Is this going to take any longer?’ was heard and so was the ‘I’m still hard here, tell him to hurry up.’

“Sehun, are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?”

“You're with Yixing right now, aren't you?” Chanyeol hissed, trying to wave away the horrible thoughts invading his mind. “Is he there to give you a birthday fuck or something?”

“Close,” Sehun snickered, “but now that you've caught on, please hang up.”

“I hate you, you should have told me earlier.”

“Where's the fun in that?” Sehun said, no trace of apology in his voice. Chanyeol hung up before he could hear anymore. The cake was getting lonely, chocolate melting by the minute. He ate it all alone, his earlier plan to eat it with Sehun through video chat dissipating as soon as he heard Yixing’s voice. 

He sulked all the way through every bite, harshly swallowing the cake without chewing properly. His phone beeped with a new message, and Chanyeol felt his sulkiness fade. 

**From: Sehun**

_Thank you hyung, I really liked your voice singing Happy Birthday to me. It's only thing I look forward to every birthday._

Chanyeol didn't want to reply. What if they were still fucking? God, did that mean Sehun was texting while fucking? That's horrible. 

**To: Sehun**

_Go focus on that dick Oh Sehun_

 

 

 

There were several things Chanyeol wanted for Sehun’s birthday this time around. Perhaps, maybe Sehun himself. Though he knew it was impossible, he still asked Mrs Song for a cake. She honestly didn't even need a reminder. Mrs Song remembered the 12th of April as much as Chanyeol does.

On his walk to the orphanage, Chanyeol couldn't stop staring at the clock in the sky, green digits blinking consistently every few seconds. They dominated the sky, but there was still blue to look at, for which Chanyeol was grateful for. It was the light blue tones of the sky that had always calmed him most. It was such a tranquil colour. Reminded him of water, and peace, and lanterns.

He opened the orphanage door, hearing a deep voice singing. Chanyeol smiled, knowing who it was immediately. Kyungsoo was in the home, and Chanyeol had felt giddy to see him. He couldn't explain it well. Even if he saw Kyungsoo every day at work and even on his off days, he still found himself seeking for Kyungsoo. He wanted Kyungsoo’s company- yearned for it, even.

Kyungsoo was sat on the floor, the kids on the floor with him, sat in a circle. Uplifting tones left Kyungsoo’s lips in the most beautiful melody. It wasn't something familiar to Chanyeol, but he found himself nodding along, loving the tune immediately. Kyungsoo himself seemed to be enjoying the time, clapping his hands with the children, his cheeks lifted from how wide he was smiling. Chanyeol couldn't stop staring. There was something about Kyungsoo’s beauty. It was different. Unique. Ethereal.

The song ended, and Kyungsoo finally looked up, seeing Chanyeol. He waved, and the kids followed his line of view, cheering and greeting Chanyeol as well. Chanyeol responded to each greeting, ruffling Doyoung’s hair when he came to hug Chanyeol. 

“How was my voice?” Kyungsoo asked when Chanyeol sat down beside him. It was a dangerously day it seemed. His heart couldn't stop running on it's own two feet, faster than usual.

“Decent,” Chanyeol replied, faking nonchalance. “I've heard better.”

“Yeah, from Jongdae I’d bet.”

“Can't lie, he’s a _really_ good singer,” Chanyeol agreed seriously, before looking up at Kyungsoo to sneak a cheeky grin, “but if I were a composer, I'd want your voice all over my music.”

“Oh? Why's that?”

 _Because I like you and I'm just really really biased,_ Chanyeol thought but he shrugged on the outside instead. “Your voice suits my rhythms and blues,”

Kyungsoo laughed, scooting closer next to Chanyeol till they were only separated by his plaid shirt and Kyungsoo’s grey polo. Chanyeol regarded Kyungsoo, “You want to have dinner at my place tonight?”

Kyungsoo grinned, “Of course. It's free dinner after all.”

 

 

 

Chanyeol could cook. At least he could, on good days. So he grimaced when he reached home and found that he had ingredients enough to make a lousy fried rice with eggs. He had wanted to impress Kyungsoo but maybe that was for another time.

They ate dinner with random conversations in between. It was all mundane stuff, till Chanyeol remembered what exactly he wanted to ask. “How did you start singing?”

Kyungsoo stopped mid-bite, surprised at Chanyeol’s question. He chewed the rice, before replying. “Third year in middle school. I got dared by a few friends to serenade to the girl I like, and that was that. I fell in love with singing more than I did the girl.”

Chanyeol laughed, before stilling. He didn't even know if Kyungsoo was bisexual or not. What if he wasn't? Damn, was Chanyeol really about to live his post-apocalypse life with an unrequited love. That sounded too much like a potential novel idea and less like an ideal life for Chanyeol. 

“You like...girls?” Chanyeol asked, carefully, not-so-tactfully. Why pretend anymore? He liked Kyungsoo, and he wanted to know the truth.

Kyungsoo stopped eating, placing his spoon on the table. He seemed to be pondering something as his eyes darted around, before finally landing on Chanyeol’s face. Kyungsoo’s eyes searched his. Chanyeol didn't know what exactly Kyungsoo was looking for, but he stared back. Their breaths mingled. He hadn’t even realised they had come so close, their faces only a few inches apart. Chanyeol knew he had to pull back. Pull away before this went further, but he didn't. Chanyeol didn't want to, either. 

Kyungsoo didn't move too, staring at Chanyeol’s face. His eyes travelled from Chanyeol’s own, to his nose, his cheeks, his lips. Kyungsoo’s eyes definitely lingered on his lips, and Chanyeol let him. He simply watched, dazed and pretty terrified. His heart was on an in between axis. It didn't know whether it should be settling down or beating hard. 

“I like boys too,” Kyungsoo finally whispered, eyes still on Chanyeol’s lips. Chanyeol gulped, and Kyungsoo followed the motion. “It's not just limited to girls. What about you?”

His eyes were on Chanyeol’s again. Chanyeol’s hands grazed the side of Kyungsoo’s cheek slightly, liking the way Kyungsoo immediate closed his eyes and leaned into it. “I like both too.”

“Why choose one when you can choose both, right?”

Chanyeol giggled, “Right.”

He rested his forehead on Kyungsoo’s eyes closed. Chanyeol didn't know who moved first- maybe it was him in all his daze, or maybe it was Kyungsoo- but someone leaned in a little more and their lips met. They were kissing. 

_They were kissing_.

Kyungsoo’s lips were as plush and soft as he imagined. Chapped some, but still as perfect as he had thought. Their hands were innocently on each other’s waist or neck, their lips pressed against each other till Chanyeol pulled away. Even in his daze, he realised he should be a lot more hesitant. He gulped, “Are you really kissing me right now?”

Kyungsoo laughed. “Yes, I like you. Is that okay?”

He made it seem so easy to say those things. Chanyeol nodded. “It's okay, it's amazing, actually.”

Kyungsoo caressed Chanyeol’s face, smile splitting his face. “You don't know how happy this makes me.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes, resting his head on Kyungsoo’s hand and wondrously revelled at how warm it was. His heart was in a constant fuzz of satiation. It may shift again in a while, but for now, Chanyeol was happy. 

Kyungsoo made him so happy. 

“You don't know how _you_ make _me_ so happy,” Chanyeol whispered, and Kyungsoo only let his other hand intertwine with Chanyeol’s. Metal should be cold, but Chanyeol had never felt more warm in his life.

 

 

_To: Sehun_

_Last year, around this time, I’d be mourning. I'd be complaining about how I've lost you. About how I wish I was dead too, beside you. About how I wish you weren't dead at all. Today, someone proved that maybe life now isn't that bad._

_Well, it's not just one person. It's more like this one person led me to more people and they all collectively had made me a happier guy. It was just like when I met you Sehun. How you made me braver and break out from the chains my family held me in._

_Your birthday’s coming soon. I have Mrs Song on the cake already. I can't wait to celebrate it again. Please don't be jealous I found Kyungsoo. You're still number one in my heart (although Kyungsoo can share that place with you, right?)_

_Hope afterlife is nice on you Sehun. Till next time._

Chanyeol watched the lantern float away. Mrs Song was next to him, and they watched as their two paper lanterns burnt into the night sky. In the dark, all they could see was the flames licking the paper underneath the stars. There was a certain beauty to it for some reason. Chanyeol felt like he could reach out to Sehun more this way. 

And he hoped that if Sehun were to pick up his letter from wherever he was in the afterlife, he would feel the same way as Chanyeol. 

 

 

 

8th April. 

Chanyeol woke up with a giddy heart. Kyungsoo was right next to him. They had slumped into sleep together after another dinner date(?) and Chanyeol couldn't help admiring the expanse of Kyungsoo’s shoulders, his clavicles and the straightness of his jawline. His fingers skittered over Kyungsoo’s arms. Bronzed at the fingertips, silver on the forearms.

The sun streamed through the barred windows of Kyungsoo’s apartment, the clock outside blaring seven a.m. Chanyeol winced. He wished he could have stayed there forever, just cuddling and admiring Kyungsoo, but work was still something they had to do.

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol groggily called, shaking him to wake him up. Kyungsoo shifted, opening one eye slowly, and then another. 

“Are we late for work again?”

Chanyeol snickered, “No but we will be if we continue to stay here.”

“Guess we will be late for work then,” Kyungsoo replied sleepily, tucking his hand underneath his pillow again. He closed his eyes even with Chanyeol’s constant shakes.

“Kyungsoo, wake up dammit.” 

The clock ticked, and Chanyeol peeked at it again. 7:10. “Well you can stay in bed, I'm going to work.”

Before Chanyeol could leave the comforts of his mattress and blankets, Kyungsoo wrapped both his legs around Chanyeol’s waist, his arms winding Chanyeol’s shoulders as well. He groaned. “Kyungsoo, _please_.”

They scuffled around on bed for at least fifteen minutes more, before Chanyeol finally slinked away, removing himself from Kyungsoo’s tight cuddles. Damn those metal arms.

“Are you really leaving me alone here?” Chanyeol turned, stopping in his tracks to the bathroom. He sighed before going back and giving Kyungsoo a peck. “Is that enough?”

Kyungsoo leaned forward, kissing him deeper, and leading him to the bathroom, “We still have a long time before work.”

Chanyeol recoiled, pulling away immediately. He knew the implication Kyungsoo was making but he couldn't. “I don't want to-”

“Why not?” Kyungsoo pouted, “We've kissed over a gazillion times. Wow I sound like the kids at the orphanage.”

“We have to get ready for work Kyungsoo,”

“But-”

“Come on.” Chanyeol cut in harshly. Kyungsoo narrowed his brows, expression hurt. He stopped in his tracks, letting out a breath. Chanyeol trailed his hands around Kyungsoo’s neck, leaning his forehead onto Kyungsoo’s. “Look, I have a hard time with sex. It's not easily the most pleasant experience for me so I'm very wary. My body's just very picky about it.”

Kyungsoo watched him carefully, trying to catch whatever it was Chanyeol was hiding. He didn't want to say it out loud, but before he could say anything, Kyungsoo just smiled, tightening his hold around Chanyeol’s waist. “It's okay Chanyeol, don't worry about it. I'm fine with just kissing too.”

How did he get so lucky with Kyungsoo? Chanyeol couldn't believe someone could be as understanding. His previous boyfriends and girlfriends had all been very persistent and even pushy but here Kyungsoo was, telling him it was okay. 

“You can have sex with anyone for now, I don't mind.”

Kyungsoo made a face at that. “I think that's a discussion for the future.”

 

 

 

Shifting equipments was one of the more minor tasks in Chanyeol’s job. It was something everyone had to do; a necessity he learnt early on in the construction industry. Chanyeol fixed his goggles, wrapping the bandanna tighter around his nose and mouth. The dust in the shack was suffocating at times. 

Chanyeol walked back to his position earlier, setting his tools down. The sun was harsh on his back as he bent over the wood to be cut. The saw in his hand almost slipped when Chanyeol wiped sweat off his brows. Jongdae shouted from the station next to his, “Woah be careful with that saw, Chanyeol!”

“I know! Sorry!” He didn't know what he was apologising for, but he did anyways. It was the easier way to get Jongdae to be quiet. The construction site was noisy with drilling, hammering and the crane overhead moving heavy steel beams. It shadowed around Chanyeol at times, but they were used to it. 

Again. A necessity.

Chanyeol began to space out while cutting the plank. He heard a loud squeal of metal but he paid no mind. Another accident he bet. The Moonkyu guy was new, so he probably did something again. A rhythmic routine was what it was to him now. Saw, drill, hammer, crane. Saw, drill hammer crane. Saw, drill hammer- 

“ _Chanyeol!_ ”

The strained voice made him look up, eyes widening in terror when he saw the steel beam falling right on his space. A body collided with his, making him fall. Kyungsoo was above him, arms in the air in an attempt to lessen the damage as the steel beam fell on them both. Chanyeol let put a staggering breath at the impact, a harsh crashing sound right beside his ear. Ringing and loud. 

It reminded him of strong winds and destroyed roads. Metal on skin, blood dripping, Sehun’s bones crushed.

Chanyeol distantly remembered that it was Moonkyu who was in charge of the crane today, before he passed out.

 

 

 

The sun had risen from the west that day. Chanyeol could still hear Sehun’s excited proclamations, completely clueless as to what would happen in the hours after. Then again, Chanyeol had been pretty clueless too, smiling along at Sehun’s wide grins as he took a thousand photographs. The world boomed that day, newscasts being made of the shift of the direction and how that was even possible. 

Chanyeol and Sehun listened to the radio in the car, looking at each other when yet again, some more news came up about the sun. “How many times was that? 19?”

“This is absurd. It's just the fucking sun.” Chanyeol muttered, looking up at the brightness now. His neighbours had been chattering about it all throughout laundry. People were coming left and right with theories, hashtags floating around the social media. Chanyeol bit his lip. He was curious around the science of it too, if he was being honest. 

Some people were claiming it to be the apocalypse, but that was scary to even think about, so Chanyeol pushed that theory away. He'd rather not think about the world ending so soon. He was just twenty-seven. Life was still waiting for him.

 _For Life_ came up on the radio and Chanyeol hummed along to it. The melody and slow tune was cut off by static right in the middle of the chorus however. Sehun glanced at Chanyeol, and he tried to change the channel, yet nothing happened. Strange.

The sky was clouding over too, grey clouds seemingly coming out of nowhere. Chanyeol took off his raybans, deeming them unnecessary for now. It was a curious change of weather, but the sun still stayed up, albeit a little more orange now. He didn't know how, but the huge star just seemed more defined. Beside him, Sehun gaped in awe. “What the fuck…”

The winds were the next weird thing, and by then, Chanyeol just took it as a weird day, but definitely good experience. Maybe he could include this in a book someday.

Except the winds got harsher. So harsh that a tree flew right past Chanyeol’s car and hit the one behind him. He exclaimed in shock, and Sehun too dropped his camera. He had been trying to take a photo of the sun. An alarm sounded somewhere in the city. Chanyeol’s heart dropped.

The chaos that ensued afterwards was deafening. It was like watching a movie where they reduced the sound but increased the pitch. Chanyeol watched, numb, as trees hit cars and other cars hit buildings and people. A storm brewed and fell in harsh torrents. Their car was getting picked up with the wind, and Sehun quickly unbuckled, Chanyeol following as they both scrambled out of their car, dropping on the road clumsily. The wind immediately caught Chanyeol’s legs though, and he felt himself almost floating, forced to follow the current.

Sehun had grabbed a metal pole nearby and he reached his arm out, catching Chanyeol in time, barely by the forearm.

Except the ground was rumbling too, and the earth was shaking right beneath their feet. Chanyeol watched as mothers pacify their children with tear-brimmed eyes, couples holding each other firmly and Sehun placing a cooling hand on his shoulder. 

“It's going to be okay,” Sehun shouted over the din, over the pitch. Chanyeol nodded. Listlessly.

He seemed to have spaced out, only walking to escape, but his eyes catch every movement, ducking under cars and trees until one hit both him and Sehun. It was inevitable. 

The ground was harsh against his cheek. He was sure that was blood dripping from his forehead into his eye. Gripping onto a road cable for leverage, he looked around, searching for Sehun. In doing so, he didn't even notice the car that had been caught up in the wind, carried into the air, then rushing fast towards him, trunk-first. 

“Chanyeol!” The distant shout had him looking up, eyes widening in fear as the huge vehicle made its way towards him. His hold on the road cable lighten. He didn't know what to do.

The next few seconds was time Chanyeol didn't want to remember. Sehun jumped in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere, covering Chanyeol’s whole body with his own. The loud sound of a crash resounded in Chanyeol’s head as Sehun received the brunt of the car first. Chanyeol’s shout went unheard. 

The pitch heightened. He blacked out.

 

 

 

Chanyeol withdrew. 

He didn't look at anyone in the eye anymore. His steps were careful, his movements robotic. The sun chimed, and that was Chanyeol’s only motivation to move. It was just like before. Everything was a routine. Everything was just like the day before.

Jongdae and Minseok tried to talk to him but Chanyeol didn't respond. He tried not to think about Jongdae’s worried face and Minseok’s sad understanding. Kyungsoo had to have his arms replaced, while Chanyeol was fine, only a cast to his arm. 

The guilt drowned him sometimes, and he sunk deeper into his mattress, staring emptily at the books strewn across his living room floor. He didn't want to feel the way he did. He wished he could bounce back into the more jolly side of his, but every time he shifted away, he remembered the blood splattered across Kyungsoo’s silver arms, his bronze fingers looked more copper than usual. Chanyeol swallowed the cloying saliva stuck in his throat. 

He had to be careful with his steps. The cast was just like the one before when the apocalypse happened. Mrs Song had been his only company again. She came then, serving dinner. Her eyes were concerned, but Chanyeol only ate quietly. 

“Your friend came by again.”

“Jongdae?” Chanyeol asked, because Jongdae had been very persistent. 

“No, the other one. The one you like.”

Chanyeol stiffened, gripping his chopsticks. “Kyungsoo,”

“Yes,” Mrs Song said, carefully. She held Chanyeol’s hands, looking at him intently. As much as Chanyeol wanted to escape her gaze, he found he couldn't. “You don't have to be afraid Chanyeol. He looked fine and new. Better than he did before, in my opinion.”

The acidity of guilt was strong, putrid in his nose and bitter on his tongue. It clogged his throat and his lungs. Chanyeol coughed, closing his eyes. “Thank you for the food, Mrs Song.”

Bright eyes dimmed. Mrs Song knew better than to press on. She cleared the dishes, ruffling Chanyeol’s hair before leaving his apartment. 

 

 

 

Chanyeol was so grateful that he didn't have to go to work. It gave him a chance to avoid all forms of contact. He locked the door, never going out for anything except to pick up his food rations. The news have implied a change, that food would have to be bought again soon. Chanyeol munched on his bread lazily. 

“There you are.” Chanyeol almost choked on his bread at the familiar voice. Kyungsoo was looking at him worriedly, closing in as Chanyeol stepped back. His eyes shifted to Kyungsoo’s arms that were now silver up to the knuckles then copper for the fingers. “How are you? I came yesterday and -”

“I'm fine,” Chanyeol interrupted, jaw tensing when Kyungsoo’s brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check up on you, of course.”

“I don't...really want to meet anyone right now.” 

Kyungsoo sighed in frustration. “So it's true, you're closing off everyone aren't you? Jongdae and Minseok, and now me?”

“I'm not.”

“Then what are you doing right now?” Kyungsoo pushed, stepping closer, eyes blazing as he looked at Chanyeol. “You don’t want to see me, you don't want to see the others. You've been in your room for four days straight!”

“Just leave me alone!” Chanyeol angrily yelled, but deflated when he saw how tightly Kyungsoo hands were gripped. Kyungsoo was just trying. He wasn't in the wrong at all. “I'm sorry, but _please_ ,”

“Am I going to have to expect a break up then?” Kyungsoo asked, expressions suddenly schooled into indifference. Chanyeol felt a prickle in his heart at the thought of breaking up with Kyungsoo. “Or are you going to quietly distant yourself and I'd just have to presume you were breaking up with me?” 

“I-” Chanyeol started, but faltered. He didn't know the answer himself. 

Kyungsoo’s jaw ticked, his breath laboured. “I gave you too much credit.”

Disappointment. God, Chanyeol hadn't faced that in ages. He could feel it's weight on his shoulders, getting heavier as Kyungsoo walked away. He should chase Kyungsoo, he knew he should, but his knees locked on him and Chanyeol only watched silently. He was such a fucking idiot.

 

 

11th April. It was today. Well, tonight. 

Sehun’s birthday was a cause for celebration. Chanyeol already have the cake in his fridge, he had been so excited for this day but now he wasn't so sure anymore. 

Chanyeol spent most of his day staring at the ceiling. He's read somewhere that this may be a sign for depression, but he didn't bother delving deeper. Fuck it honestly. Chanyeol’s optimism was dwindling every second but he was sure he could obtain it again someday. Maybe.

At 12, Chanyeol left the house. His own apartment was clawing at his sanity, and if he didn't go out, he might actually go crazy. He brought the cake with him, walking the long way to the mound. He was going to be more than eleven minutes late for Sehun’s birthday this time but he couldn't even be bothered to think about that. 

The mound rose above him in an intimidating way. Chanyeol sat down by it, looking at the flowers Kyungsoo had grown there. They fluttered with the night wind, following the serenity silently. 

He had brought candles with him and he lit them on the cake, humming the birthday song to himself. Chanyeol ate his cake, but as per usual, it tasted salty. Tears dripped down his cheeks. This time, it wasn't just for missing Sehun, so it tasted horrible. His throat hurt so much, his eyes couldn't stop letting out the tears. 

When Chanyeol heard steps, he wiped his tears quickly, trying to gather his bearings as he shoved the strawberry shortcake without the actual strawberries hurriedly into his mouth. The footsteps stopped right next to him and Chanyeol peered from the corner of his eye over the scuffed beige sneakers. Baekhyun. 

Chanyeol groaned. He was not in the mood for Baekhyun rubbing it in his face at all. Baekhyun sat beside him, glancing over occasionally. Chanyeol may not be looking but he could feel it.

“My dad used to hate me,” Baekhyun said suddenly, so out of the blue that Chanyeol finally looked at him, eyes wide. 

“I'm sorry?”

“He didn't like me being a pornstar. My mom didn't either I guess, but she knew I was happy,” Baekhyun continued, twirling a stalk of flower in his hands. “He wouldn't talk to me once I got that job and he found out. It was horrible, he mocked me every chance he got, even when it wasn't necessary.”

Chanyeol blinked. He wondered why Baekhyun was telling him all this. He didn't remember asking. 

“He died after the apocalypse, his wounds catching up on him and finally killing him. I was so happy when he died,” Baekhyun rested his chin on his knees, looking at mound with shiny eyes. “I know it's bad that I was happy but I really was. It was cynical and twisted and-- and I was so angry that my mother felt sad that he was dead. He never did anything for us. Why does she even love him, you know?”

Chanyeol didn't know, but he nodded anyway. Baekhyun touched the petals of his flowers with his fingertips. “The mechanics and doctors- they told me that my mom’s brain had a tumour and they could remove it and replace it with a metal brain. Her limbs had to be replaced anyway. My mom disagreed because she thought it was her time but _I_ didn't want her to go. So I signed the papers for her instead.”

“Do you...regret it?” Chanyeol finally voiced. A drop of tear fell. Baekhyun was trying to control it, Chanyeol could tell. 

“Of course I do. Every time I look at her, lifeless eyes stare back. She doesn't even remember who I am anymore.” Baekhyun wiped his tears with the back of his hand. Chanyeol fixed his glasses, before hesitantly patting Baekhyun on the back. Baekhyun gave him a thankful smile. “My dad is in there somewhere.”

“Under the mound?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun nodded, “Maybe if he was still alive, he would have stopped me from doing what I did.”

They sat in silence for a while, before Chanyeol cleared his throat. “My bestfriend is under there too. He died in the apocalypse actually. When he was trying to save me.”

Baekhyun’s face lit up with realisation. “Is that why you and Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol didn't elaborate, and Baekhyun didn't press on. They didn't say anything, staring at the mound together. Chanyeol didn't know what exactly Baekhyun wanted, but it was nice. He didn't ever think Baekhyun would be a nice guy to hang out with, but time has proved him wrong.

“Just, Chanyeol? Don't be too hung up on the past.” Baekhyun said, his voice carrying in the silence of the night. “There's nothing to be afraid of.”

Chanyeol shifted in his seat, humming as a sign that he was hearing. Baekhyun looked at the cake then at the mound again. He stood up without a word, already prepared to leave. “Don't embrace the past too tightly when it's not even hugging back.”

He felt the breath rush out of him, and he watched as Baekhyun walked out of the mound site. What Baekhyun said in his head, each word a slap in his face.

 

 

 

The next day, Chanyeol ran to work. Plenty of people looked at him as he dashed to the construction site. There was so many words at the tip of his tongue. They bubbled at the edge of his lips and when he reached the locker room and saw Jongdae, he hugged him with his one good arm, apologies spilling from his mouth like an untwisted faucet. 

Jongdae was surprised, but his tense form slowly relaxed, hugging Chanyeol back. He patted Chanyeol on the head, calming, pacifying. Chanyeol apologised to Minseok too, then Baekhyun who only smiled knowingly. To everyone’s surprise, Baekhyun hugged him, his whisper unheard by anyone except Chanyeol. “I'm proud of you.” 

Chanyeol felt jittery when the door opened and Kyungsoo walked in. Kyungsoo looked like he was exhausted, and Chanyeol slowly went towards him, every inch of his body wanting to reach out. He just wanted to comfort Kyungsoo in an embrace. “Hey,”

“Hi,” Kyungsoo greeted back, his cheeks slightly pink. He swallowed. “Listen, Chanyeol, I'm so sorry about what I said that time. I had no right-”

“You were right,” Chanyeol said, shrugging. “I was a coward. I took the easy way out.”

“No you didn’t,” Kyungsoo protested, “I didn’t even know what you were going through.”

“I know I was wrong Kyungsoo, and I'm sorry.” Chanyeol said, meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes. “I did you wrong. You don't deserve to be treated like that. Especially not after what you did for me. Which is more than anyone else has ever done, I'm so _so_ sorry.”

Kyungsoo smiled, hands immediately on Chanyeol’s face, eyes fond as they gazed at him. “It's okay Chanyeol, it's all okay.”

And for once, Chanyeol let him be coaxed by that thought. That it was all going to be okay. 

 

 

 

The walk back to their apartment complex was silent. Chanyeol didn't think there was much to say. There wasn't much to talk about in the first place. He was reassured by the comfort of no words, but those same words were clawing up his throat. Comfort? Ignore? Acknowledge? What was it that Chanyeol wanted to do?

Under the greying moon and a deep blue sky, Chanyeol wondered if that metal hand he was reaching for was the right one. 

It wasn't pale nor was it skin-like. Instead, it was a mixture of different coloured metals- silver at the forearm, bronze at the tips. Kyungsoo was nothing like Sehun, yet all the comfort Sehun gave Chanyeol, it was in Kyungsoo. He was conflicted. He was afraid. He wanted to reach out, but he wanted to stay to himself too.

In the brewing bitter condiment that was fusing in his mind, Chanyeol had to stop short. A metal hand- silver at the forearm, bronzed at the tips- reached for his. Skin and metal met, and Chanyeol deflated. Kyungsoo’s smile was all-knowing, and the tears in Chanyeol’s eyes were brimming. Kyungsoo was so much like Sehun. So, so much like Sehun.

“ _Everyday I meet someone, and spend the night with them, biting a cigarette late at night_ ,” A familiar tune was suddenly sang, and Chanyeol stared at Kyungsoo. It was the song that inspired Chanyeol for one of his books. Hug Me. “ _You and me are, both lonely and unsatisfied, there must be an empty spot,_ ”

Kyungsoo looked happy even if he was singing a sad song. Chanyeol stepped closer, wanting to offer even the smallest semblance of comfort. Kyungsoo didn't continue the song, simply stared at the sky. At the clock, the moon, the stars. “Our world has changed so much.”

He gazed at Kyungsoo’s face. It has changed so much. Everything around Chanyeol, to everything in Chanyeol. For once, Chanyeol didn't want to dwell on it. So he picked up where Kyungsoo left off. “ _We've come too far, I don't think I can go back. It's scary._ ”

Chanyeol’s voice cracked at the end, and he glanced at Kyungsoo, unprepared to see the fond smile etched on the other’s face. The hand around Chanyeol’s tighten slightly, before Kyungsoo sang the chorus. 

“ _Hug me_ ,”

And Chanyeol did just that, holding Kyungsoo in his arms right under a streetlamp. He cut off Kyungsoo who was singing, but he needed this. Needed it so much. The sobs wracking through his body only grew, becoming wails that echoed into the night. Kyungsoo didn't say anything, merely hugged Chanyeol tighter. Through Chanyeol’s blurry vision, he saw a future with the man in front of him.

Chanyeol held onto that.

 

 

 

“Sehun protected me, on the apocalypse,” Chanyeol said, “It was me who made him die.”

“No Chanyeol, listen,” Kyungsoo stood in front of where he was sitting on the chair. “When he protected you, it was because he loved you and that is a wonderful thing. Wouldn't you have done the same thing for him?”

“Sehun was a great guy, I would sacrifice myself to have him alive again.”

Kyungsoo kept quiet, only holding Chanyeol’s hand as he maneuvered his way onto Chanyeol’s lap. “You know, people come and go but it's up to us to find beauty in what remains. Dying is just part and parcel of life and it will happen. To anyone.”

The words swam in his head. As much as he wanted to grasp it fully, he couldn't. Kyungsoo rested his forehead on Chanyeol’s chin, chuckling under his breath. “You don't get what I'm trying to say, do you?”

“Nope,”

“Sehun died for a cause, and what we can do to honour him is by remembering him as the great man he was. It was his time to go, and he did it saving you. I don't think he would have wanted to die any other way.” Kyungsoo said, looking up at Chanyeol intently, fingers playing with the ends of Chanyeol’s jaw. “And the life he had let you continue, it is up to you to continue on strongly and do something with it.”

Chanyeol stilled in Kyungsoo’s hands, eyes widening. He was having a eureka moment, and Kyungsoo looked too amused for his sake. “How do you know how to word these things so eloquently?”

“I'm a writer, remember?” 

Chanyeol raised a brow, before kissing Kyungsoo on the lips, smiling against the kiss. “How did I get so lucky?”

Kyungsoo only kissed him back, hands wound around Chanyeol’s neck. It was another one of those moments. The Kyungsoo effect, when his heart just beat its way out of Chanyeol’s chest almost. Chanyeol felt a little out of breath, and felt a lot in love with Kyungsoo. The boy with metal arms. 

“I can feel your heart just fine, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo whispered, kissing his nose and smiling when Chanyeol scrunched it at the peck. “I think I've finally succeeded on giving you half of mine.”

“That's so cheesy,” Chanyeol laughed, only going silent when Kyungsoo pressed his lips against the jugular of his neck. “But I love it.”

 _I love you_ , Chanyeol thought, but that was a confession for another time.

 

 

 

River music played in Chanyeol’s mind. His heart felt calm and his mind was silent, as he laid the lantern in the river, flaming it with his small matchstick. Kyungsoo placed two lanterns beside him, and they watched it all float away, slowly turning into ashes. 

Chanyeol’s handwriting on the lantern faded word by word, and he hoped the letter on there reached its owner’s hands. Chanyeol clasped Kyungsoo’s hands and they both still stared at the river as the paper lanterns finally disappear. It was sad, but at the same time, Chanyeol had never felt more at peace with himself. He breathed, whispering quietly into the air, “To Sehun,”

 

_I'm happy now. Really. I've told you about Kyungsoo, well, he's made me the most happiest man on this planet. Sehun, this may be one of the last few letters I ever write to you but I'm sure you'd understand. I hope you've met a Chanyeol up there or wherever you are. Or maybe a Kyungsoo. Yeah that's more fitting I think._

_We had the best friendship, and no one could replace you in my heart. In my mind. In my memories. You've built me as a person and made me prouder of who I am back then and I don't think I have ever thanked you enough. You are truly one of a kind Sehun._

_Farewell, Sehun. This has been long overdue. Rest in peace, angel._

_Love, Chanyeol._

 

 

“ _In the last snapshots of my life, you were my focal point. Everything I’ve ever taken a picture of reminded me of you. Thank you for being the warm tones to my monochrome, bringing the life to my dullness and linking a finger to my useless hands. You are my saviour and my best friend. Park Chanyeol, thank you._ ” 

\- _Oh Sehun, upon winning the Top Photographer award this weekend_.

 

 

 

The sand was coarse on Chanyeol’s feet. He had almost forgotten what sand felt like. It was their off day and all of them were gathered at the new man made beach that was just built. Chanyeol ran around with Jongdae, playing volleyball with him and Minseok for a while. Their laughs echoed in the sky, the clouds a witness to their joyful faces.

When Chanyeol finally separated himself from the two, he found Baekhyun right beside Kyungsoo who was sleeping on the beach mat. Chanyeol glanced at Baekhyun, who looked back at him. They both smirked at each other before grabbing a random spoon they found to dig a hole big enough for Kyungsoo. 

Baekhyun was, as Chanyeol slowly found out, just like him in so many ways. They used to watch the same animes, they had the same line of humour and they even thought of the same ideas every time. Chanyeol called Baekhyun his partner in crime, much to Kyungsoo's dismay. Kyungsoo just wished they had never gotten along because now, all their pranks were focused on him. 

Like right then. Chanyeol finally patted the sand over Kyungsoo’s body when he finally woke up, glaring at all the sand covering his body and then at both Chanyeol and Baekhyun. They both grinned, but Baekhyun, clearly the smarter of the two ran away before Kyungsoo could even say his name and curse him to the depths of the ocean. And Chanyeol, being the sweet boyfriend he was stayed to give Kyungsoo a peck on the lips. 

“Have fun,” he sing-songed, before running away too. Kyungsoo’s angry yelling trailed behind him but he only laughed as he ran towards Baekhyun, the two doubling over.

 

They regret it later, when Kyungsoo hit the both on the head. Although, Kyungsoo did give Chanyeol a kiss on the head to compensate later on. Chanyeol snickered at the disgusted faces on everyone’s faces except Jongdae’s who seemed to be encouraging it with his eyes. He belonged here, with them, and that thought alone was enough to make him smile.

 

 

epilogue;

 

The orphanage was now in full bloom. Carnations peeked at every corner and sunflowers stood tall on teal walls. Doyoung had rushed towards him with his new written work as soon as he stepped inside, and Jaehyun showed him his new dance routine while Yura gave him a pretty bow for him to wear. The kids had all warmed up to Chanyeol and in turn, Chanyeol too had become endeared to them.

He made his way to the common room after entertaining the kids’ whims and newfound discoveries. Everyone gathered slowly. They all knew that Chanyeol was about to tell a story when he went into the common room. Chanyeol took out a book from his bag, smiling just at the mere sight of it. The sunshine glinted into the room, where Chanyeol opened a book that was as dog-eared as they come. 

Chanyeol had edited this book, Kyungsoo’s hand in his as he went through all the mistakes and critiqued it all. It had been fun to see a book that was not his come together and be the final product it was now.

Kyungsoo’s proud face was at the back of his mind as he opened the book. His happy grin as he told Chanyeol that he was finally done with it, and his flush when Chanyeol called him a writer- it was so hard to forget. Kyungsoo had positively glowed that day.

He cleared his throat as he looked back down at the off-white pages. There was writing on the front of the book, and Chanyeol read it out with pride. 

“Today’s book is ‘ _The Boy With Metal Arms_ ’ by _Do Kyungsoo_.”

 

 

 

 

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and once again, thank you to the mods and thank /you/ for reading this fic!
> 
> come talk to me about cbx and like 100 ships on my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/lovetelit)


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